


Blindside

by ingayder, Irken_Scum



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Arguing, Bickering, Blind Date, Denial, Drinking, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Idiots in Love, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Praise Kink, Sisterly Support, Tongue Piercings, Touch-Starved, Xenophilia, Zim Has a Praise Kink (Invader Zim), a dash of mild angst, consensual possessiveness, trans dib, weird alien dong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 13:23:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21428932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ingayder/pseuds/ingayder, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irken_Scum/pseuds/Irken_Scum
Summary: Twelve years have passed since Zim's last real attempt at world domination, and yet, aside from Zim forming a genuine friendship with Keef, not much has changed for him, or his old adversary, Dib Membrane. Even after all these years, the two of them are hopelessly obsessed with outdoing each other, even to the point of severe detriment to their lives. Hoping to help her brother reconcile his reasons for continuing to chase after the now-harmless alien, Gaz contacts Zim's lone human friend, and the two of them come up with the perfect scheme to help these two morons figure out the real reason they've been hounding each other all this time--- a blind date. What could go wrong?
Relationships: Dib/Zim (Invader Zim), ZaDr - Relationship
Comments: 18
Kudos: 226





	Blindside

The quiet of the small apartment, currently only occupied by a lo-fi playlist, humming, and the clink of a spoon against a pan, was broken by the slam of a door, and a shout.

"KEEF YOU'LL NEVER _BELIEVE_ THIS BULLSHIT THAT HAPPENED TODAY."

Ah, yes. The telltale sound of Zim's voice.

Zim didn't live there. He still lived in his weird little house in his weird little cul-de-sac. Keef had just needed to give him a key so that he would stop breaking in. It was much more expensive to replace the door knob to keep his landlord from noticing the frequent attempts at breaking and entering than to just give the guy a key.

The two had rocky beginnings. A little over twelve years ago, Zim had faked being Keef's friend for the sake of appearances, and then betrayed that loyalty with wanton cruelty. But the two had mellowed out with age (well, one more so than the other) in recent years. Between Zim coming clean about the nature of his otherworldly nature and giving a genuine apology for once in his life, the two actually got a long quite swimmingly. The problem was that now, by far, Zim was the pushy friend.

Livid about something that he was going to definitely wait for Keef to ask about, Zim plopped on the couch, pouting exaggeratedly.

Keef, who'd just been emerging from the kitchen with his dinner, lifted his brows. Zim barging in was, by no means, an irregular occurrence anymore. It was practically a every-other-daily event anymore: something would happen, Zim would get mad about it, and there he was, on the couch, with that tell-tale pout that needed Keef to press, or else he'd just sit there looking like he'd just been slighted by the whole world. Not that Keef minded terribly. Zim was one of the few people he was close to.

"What bullshit happened today?" Keef asked, taking a seat on the other end of the couch so he could kick his feet up, picking at his macaroni and leaning back. "Hit me, I'm ready for it."

"DIB! AGAIN!" Zim threw up his hands. "I wasn’t even doing anything to him or trying to take over the Earth this time! I was very, very busy at the mall looking for scented candles and he SHOT ME from the floor above with a water gun!"

"Oof, the water gun again?" Keef tutted. "That's rough, man. You sure he's not just getting you back for the superglue thing though?"

"Uh! Pff! No! Clearly he is just hhhhhhhharrassing me!" Zim ranted. "My scented candles were very important, Keef."

"Maybe you should tell him to... not do that when you're candle shopping?" Keef suggested.

"Keef. If I could just tell the Dib not to do things and he would listen, I would have been rid of him years ago," Zim said, crossing his arms.

"Right," Keef nodded. "Wishful thinking. So, what're you gonna do back, then?"

"I haven't decided." Zim mulled this over, wracking his brain for interesting ideas. "Maybe I should shoot something at him that makes his skin sizzle. What makes humans burn again? Acid?"

"Mmmmmaybe not acid," Keef grinned awkwardly. "You'd go to jail. What about lemon juice? That burns. Kind of."

Zim made a vague hand gesture. "I'd have to hit him in the eyes to do any real damage. He wears glasses, so that's easier said than done."

"You could always just get him with really cold water," Keef noted. "It's really jarring."

Zim sighed, patting Keef’s arm patronizingly. "Keef, I appreciate you. You are kind and gentle. You are absolutely terrible at evil plans."

"Ugh, I know, I'm trying."

Zim sighed. "I need to do something more elaborate. More infuriating. Something that at least matches the severity of him ruining the sanctity of scented candles at the mall," he mused, before straightening. "AH. I have it!"

"Alright!" Keef grinned. "What's the plan?"

"He has a date tonight," Zim said, rubbing his hands together menacingly. "I saw it while snooping about on his social media. I'm going to ruin it."

"Hey, that's not a bad idea, and you definitely won't go to jail for that!" Keef snickered. "Just try to go easy on the other person, okay?"

"Pff. I will simply make sure they learn better than to spend any time with the Dib-Beast," Zim said, sneering wickedly.

"Well, you wanna grab something to eat before you gear up for evil?" Keef offered. "I made some really kickass macaroni today. There's like, five different kinds of cheeses in it, and I had a feeling you'd show up, so I put those tiny ham bits in it that I know you like."

"YES!" Zim lept up from the couch. "But I must eat quickly. I have to pick up Gir from his tap dancing class."

"Aw, dance lessons? That's great!" Keef grinned. "If you need to take some in a tupperware, you can, but if you don't bring it back I'm gonna break into your house this time, and I'm gonna take mine back and steal all yours."

"Oh-ho! At last, the evil is rubbing off on you!" Zim sounded utterly delighted, following Keef to the kitchen. "Zim is proud of you."

"Yeah, yeah. You're a terrible influence," Keef teased fondly, and getting Zim a decently-sized tupperware full of macaroni, he saw him back to the door, giving him a supportive pat to the shoulder. "Good luck with your rudeness! Text me and lemme know how it goes."

"I will do you one better!" Zim headed for the door, walking backwards to talk to Keef as he left. "I will send you GLORIOUS IMAGES of my victory on the Snapchat!"

"Hey, that works too!" Keef laughed. "See you later, Zim!"

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

And, after Gir had been picked up and plotting for evil had begun, it was time for the date to be ruined.

Dib was none the wiser, having gotten himself in one of his nicer-but-still-casual button-ups, offering a sheepish grin Gretchen's way as he met her in the cafe they'd picked out over text. It'd been a while since he'd been on a date, and he was relatively excited about this one! He and Gretchen had been friends for a long time, and they both agreed to try it out with a date to see how anything would work, and if it didn't, no harm done; it'd still be a fun trip out with a friend, after all!

"Hey, Gretchen! Sorry I'm late, my dad started telling a story when I was on the way out the door, you know how it goes," Dib greeted her, a little embarrassed, but took a seat. "Hope I didn't keep you waiting too long!"

Gretchen, who had the straightest teeth in town after several years of braces and her auburn hair in a short bob, smiled and looked up from her phone at his voice. "Hey, no worries! Was it one of his work stories again?"

"No, one of the childhood ones this time, about... barracudas, apparently?" Dib shrugged, looking confused but amused. "He's had a bad track record with sea life, I guess. But, hey! How'd visiting your sister go today? I know it's been forever since she came to town."

"Great! She just came to meet with some client for her work, I guess," Gretchen replied, shrugging. "But hey, it's been almost as long since the last time I saw you! What have you been up to?"

"Ugh, so much class stuff, between my investigations and school I barely see anyone anymore!" Dib remarked. "It's been productive, but also hell, so I'm glad we found time to come grab food! I really needed the breather."

"Oh yeah, you're going for your Ph.D., huh?" Gretchen mused, leaning on her hand. "God, you are so ridiculously smart."

"What? Pfff, no, I just--- y'know, got stuff I wanna do that could use that on my record," Dib grinned sheepishly. "Plus my dad's willing to keep paying for it as long as I'm willing to go, so I figured why not, you know?"

"You have to be really committed, though! And you've always been really smart!" Gretchen assured him.

"You're too nice to me!" Dib teased, a dull red rising to his cheeks. Compliments were still a little foreign to him, even now that he was older. "What sort of stuff has been going on with you lately, though?"

"Ugh, just writing trashy romance novels on commission," Gretchen groaned, clearly not interested in her work. "Honestly I just pull dumb ideas from my diaries as a kid and make them a little sexier for the older crowd. Old ladies eat it up. It'll keep my bills paid till I can get my real novel out."

"Oh yeah, I forgot you had a personal project going on!" Dib lifted his brows, immediately interested. "The space-age thriller, right? I remember that bit you sent me. You are really good at writing action-horror stuff."

"Thank you!" Gretchen beamed, gushing. "I was actually, uh. Really... inspired by you?"

"Really? No way!" Dib laughed, delighted. "Oh my god, I am... so honored, honestly? I had no idea!"

"Well, you always told such amazing stories when we were in school," Gretchen muttered, a bit bashful. "I couldn't help it."

"Oh, man, I never thought anybody listened to basically anything I said in school," Dib smiled, looking thoroughly flattered and a little embarrassed. "Basically everyone in our class looked away the second I started saying anything. Except... you! Wow. That's kind of... really validating to know about, actually."

"I have no idea how you came up with some of that stuff." Gretchen laughed warmly.

"Well, I mean, a lot of it's real," Dib replied, upbeat. "I'll have to show you some of the evidence I've gotten over the years! It's good stuff."

Gretchen smiled awkwardly at that. "Oh, you have evidence? Thaaaat's so wild!"

"Right!?" Dib grinned, immediately gushing, not at all detecting any awkwardness about it. "I know it sounds really off the wall, but that's what I've been busy investigating, and I've gotten definite proof of so many cases over the years! Like the Goodale Sasquatch, or--- oh, man, dragonfly people. They are so scary, Gretchen, and they are really obsessed with the marble that the local fountains are made of! The pictures I have are really really clear, to, it's incredible stuff!"

Gretchen tried her absolute best not to look thoroughly overwhelmed and very uncomfortable, pursing her lips. "Wooow. You're still, uh. Preeeetty serious about this stuff, huh, Dib?"

"Yeah! I mean--- I'm older, so I have more time and resources to dedicate to it, you know?" Dib grinned brightly. "It's so nice to have somebody who's actually interested in this stuff!"

"I mean, I'm--- interested in science fiction?" Gretchen tried, shrugging.

"Close enough!" Dib beamed.

Gretchen pursed her lips, taking a deep breath. "Listen, Dib, I---"

Before she could get out what she had to say, however, there was a flash of bright orange. The smell of citrus. A loud splash.

Then, the sound of a familiar cackle.

On the roof of the cafe, Zim stood above them, having set up a strange contraption that by the looks of things had just dropped 7 gallons of orange juice onto them and their table. "AAAHAHAHA!" Zim cackled. "Take THAT, DIB-STINK! I win TWICE! Your courtship ritual is RUINED, and for once in your life, you don't smell like a PRE-PACKAGED SALAMI SNACK."

Dib let out a startled yelp at the sheer tidal wave of orange juice that hit them, looking bewildered for a moment, before his attention snapped up to the source of the cackling. It only took one second of seeing that green face before he bristled.

Oh, god damn it.

"ZIM!" Dib barked, standing up and sneering. "I--- first of all, I never smell like salami, and secondly, what the fuck!?"

He paused, before frowning Gretchen's way, fretting. "Gretchen, I am so sorry, he's a horrible insane bug man and I literally have no idea how he knew I was gonna be here today---"

Gretchen, however, was already livid. She stood, angry, letting out a wordless yell of frustration. "GODDAMMIT, DIB!" Groaning, she threw her soaked fabric cafe napkin at him. "You're such a fucking KID! You haven't changed at all and neither has Zim. You're both a pair of dumbass man-children playing STUPID GAMES! First the paranormal stuff, now this? Ugh." Turning on her heel and throwing up her hands, Gretchen turned to storm off.

"Wait, Gretchen, hang on, I'm really sorry!" Dib tried to catch her before she left, frowning deeply, not worried about Zim for the moment. He'd come back to that. "Listen, I really had no idea this would happen, I'm so sorry, let's just talk about this---"

"No, Dib. Grow up," Gretchen snapped.

"I _have_ grown up!" Dib protested. "Ugh, why is it every time Zim does something, it's on me! I don't own the guy! He's a dickhead all on his own!"

Gretchen let out another groan, stopping to pick up her shoes. "Dude, take a hint! You're still chasing ghost stories! The conspiracy theorist thing was cute when we were kids, but oh my god, dude, you’re in grad school."

"It's not conspiracies if I have honest-to-god proof of it!" Dib argued. "It's tangible, real stuff I can show you, not just made-up stuff by crazy guys in vans!"

"Then go ask a fucking alien on a date, I've got human shit to do!" Gretchen whined, hobbling back to her car. "I'm gonna be fucking sticky for a week, Jesus Christ."

"I, uh. I can shoot you money if you need anything dry-cleaned," Dib muttered. "...Sorry."

But Gretchen had run out of responses, getting back into her car, driving off just a teensy bit too fast.

Zim stood silently, a bit awkward, on the roof of the cafe. "So. Uh. What's her damage?"

"Don't!" Dib lifted a hand, cutting him off, fuming. "Don't. Say. Anything. I'm going to pay this bill, and I'm going to go home and pretend this never happened. Thanks a lot, Zim."

Shucking off his jacket so he didn’t drip too badly inside the restaurant, he stormed inside, clearly fuming as well.

"Hmm." Zim turned to Gir. "That felt weird."

Gir tutted lightly. "You made him upset!!"

"That was the point!" Zim threw up his hands in frustration. "He’s just--- Ugh. Whatever. Come along Gir, let's go home."

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

After the bill was paid, Dib made his own unfortunately soggy drive home, and the second he was in the house, he let out a groan, taking off his soaked button-up and rifling through a laundry basket he'd left in the living room just about an hour before. "I'm back. Everything sucks. I miss anything?"

"Nope," Gaz said, feet up on the table, game in hand. "What sucks this time?"

"Zim ruined my date!" Dib griped, stepping into the downstairs bathroom to change into something dry and not orange-scented. "Ugh, I'm never gonna get to have a romantic life until I prove that he's an alien, he ruins everything. It's either he personally comes to fuck everything up, or I accidentally mention the alien thing, and that's it. It sucks! I suck. Why is everything so hard all the time?"

"Is that why you smell like orange juice?"

"He dumped orange juice on me from the roof."

"Heh."

_"Wow._ Thanks, Gaz."

"What? It's a funny mental image," Gaz said, a hint of a smile on her face. "Y'think maybe water gun sniping him at the mall was a bad idea right before your date?"

"I mean, probably," Dib muttered, letting out a sigh. "It was going bad anyways, though. I got caught up in talking about investigations, and she got that look. You know the one."

"The 'oh god this is awkward because this guy is talking about crazy people stuff' look?"

"Yeah," Dib sighed, plopping onto the couch and frowning deeply. "Ugh. I don't know why I try. I'm just the local crazy guy, it's never gonna work."

Gaz looked at him contemplatively for a moment, her expression characteristically unreadable. "...How about I help you out?"

"What do you mean?" Dib lifted a brow from where he'd leaned his head back, but not budging.

"I might know a guy who knows a guy," Gaz said. "You're still bi, right?"

"Last time I checked," Dib muttered.

"Ugh, thank god. If you were straight I would have had to kill you," Gaz groaned.

"Gaz, if I figured out I was straight, I would've found a nice bridge to throw myself off instead and save the world from one more weird straight guy," Dib remarked.

"Atta boy." Gaz stood, stretching. "You're worried about the wrong monsters, Dib. It's the hetties."

"I'm multi-track worrying about monsters, Gaz," Dib groaned. "I'm worried about sasquatch and heterosexuals knowing I exist."

Gaz scoffed, smiling a little. "Alright. I'm gonna go check in with my guy who knows a guy. You should wash your hair. You got some pulp."

"I'm gonna wallow in my pulp of defeat for a few more minutes, but I will, don't worry," Dib sighed. "...Thanks, Gaz, I appreciate it."

"No problem," she said casually. "...Sorry about Gretchen. That sucks."

"It's okay, I'm just... mostly worried she's not gonna want to be friends after all that," Dib muttered.

Gaz shrugged, sighing. "Give her like a day to cool her head, then send her an apology."

"I will, don't worry. I'll let you know if she tears me another new one or not."

With a nod, Gaz headed to her room.

It only took a few minutes of digging on Facebook to find him--- Keef Sunshine. A red-headed young man with dozens of smiling selfies. Obviously a very happy guy. It honestly made Gaz a little queasy how upbeat he was. But, she had to send him a message if she wanted to get Dib to get over himself.

<(hey. you. you went to school with my brother right?)

Keef, who'd been in the middle of watching a movie on his laptop, paused it, brows lifting in surprise when he caught eye of someone that he'd only seen in passing in school. Gaz Membrane? Must be referring to Dib, if he had to guess. 

(Dib? Yeah, we went to school together!)>  
(Why, what's up?)>

<(are you still friends with zim?)

(Sure am!)>

A pause.

(Oh god, he didn't do anything, did he? If he did, I know he probably won't apologize, but I am so sorry.)>

<(no. i mean yeah he did but thats not what this is about. i need your help w something.)

(Oh. Okay! Sure, I'm on board. What're we doing?)>

<(i think zim and dib need to hook up.)

Another short pause.

(You know I never thought about that but you're so right.)>

(How're we gonna do that? They kind of hate each other right now.)>

<(easy. blind date.)

(Ohhhh. That's a really good idea. And you're sure they won't try to kill each other the second the other one walks in the room?)>

<(we can go along to supervise like good wingmen)

(Maybe! Might not be a bad idea.)>

<(theyve been obsessed w each other for years. the least they can do is like. bang it out or something so theyll shut up lmao.)

(That's a mental image I never wanted but here we are! I'm in. What’s the plan?)>

<(k cool. see if u can talk zim into it and get back to me. dib's all mopey abt his love life rn i dont wanna get him emotionally invested in something if we cant get zim on board)

(I'll go ahead and shoot him a message! One minute.)>

And so Keef did, shooting Zim a message in another chat window open, typing quickly. 

(Hey! Question. Hypothetically speaking, say I found somebody who I think you'd click really well with. As your best friend and partner in petty crime, would you trust me to set up a date for you?)>

<(DATE? AS IN A HUMAN COURTING RITUAL??? WHY)

(I found someone who is just as thoroughly off their shits as you are. I think it'd go great!)>

<(I DON'T KNOW IF I AM INTERESTED IN ROMANCE, KEEF.)

(You sure? I mean, that night we watched a bunch of schmoopy movies and had drinks had me thinking you might be, but that's totally my bad if I read too far into that, lol. Maybe if not romantic, it could be a friend date? I feel like you guys could have a lot to talk about!)>

<(EHHHHHHHH. HOW DARE YOU BRING UP ZIM'S VULNERABILITIES.)

(It's not my fault you cried like 6 times at Eternal Sunshine. ;P)>

<(LISTEN!!!!!!)

(I'm listening!)>

<(IT JUST HIT A LITTLE TOO CLOSE TO HOME. THAT'S ALL. THAT'S ALL!!)

(Mmmmmmmmmhm. That's beside the point!! What do you think?)>

<(FINE. I WILL TRY IT. BUT ONLY BECAUSE MY VERY GOOD FRIEND HAS ASKED ME TO. BUT IF MY DATE DOES NOT RECOGNIZE MY GENIUS AND FALL HEAD OVER HEELS IN LOVE WITH ME IMMEDIATELY I WILL BE VERY DISAPPOINTED, KEEF.)

( I think you guys have a good chance of that! When have I ever steered you wrong? :D)>

<(DO YOU WANT A LIST)

(I do not thank you.)>

<(ALRIGHT. LET ME KNOW THE DETAILS WHEN YOU HAVE THEM.)

(Will do! Sit tight, I'll have it for you soon!)>

With a click onto another window, Keef began typing excitedly to Gaz once more.

(Got him on board, Gaz!! It took some work, but I managed it. You think dinner on Friday at like 8 or something would be good? That tends to be a good time for dates.)>

<(probably lemme ask.)

Gaz rose from her computer, poking her head into the other room. "Hey. You still pulpy?"

"...I got sidetracked on my phone," Dib muttered. "I'll get up in a sec."

"I just got done messaging someone," Gaz said. "Blind date. Guy."

"People still do blind dates?" Dib lifted a brow, finally looking up from his phone. "Don't they kind of always go terrible?"

"Dude, you're just gonna have to trust me." Gaz stared at him pointedly. "Do you want a love life or don't you?"

"Ughhh, I do," Dib groaned. "Alright, I'll go. When is it?"

"Friday at 8. I'll go hang out with the other person helping me set it up in case you need a wingman or an out," Gaz assured him.

"Alright, yeah. I can do that," Dib agreed, finally peeling himself off the couch. "For now, though, I really do need to de-pulp myself."

Gaz started to head back to her room, but paused. Normally doing the right thing was not her primary concern. She wasn’t an amoral person, per se, but generally speaking, it wasn’t something she spent a lot of time worrying about. But this time, it mattered, because if what she was doing was a mistake, it could really, genuinely hurt her brother, who was one of the few people she cared for. Tentatively, she spoke up once more. "Question.”

“Answer,” Dib muttered, listless.

Gaz scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Be serious. Why do you still put up with Zim after all these years?"

"What?" Dib furrowed his brows at the question, having had his attention torn away from walking to pick a piece of orange off his face. "Because I'm still trying to expose him as an alien and make sure he doesn't destroy the Earth. Why?"

"He's not gonna destroy the Earth," Gaz said. "He knows that his Tall Guys or whatever aren't coming. He hasn't done anything serious since the hole in the sky. He just... keeps messing with you because he wants you to pay attention to him. Why do it?"

Dib paused, frowning, having a hard time knowing what to say to that. "I mean--- that doesn't--- change the fact that he's still an alien. Plus, I've been trying to get him caught for so long, it'd be dumb to give up after so long just because he's annoying, right?"

"Do you enjoy doing it?" Gaz suggested.

"These are really weird questions all of a sudden," Dib tried to derail it. "And I am way too sticky to start questioning a decade of my work. My hair is trying to turn into one giant super-hair. A super-hair, Gaz."

"All I'm saying is, at some point you either need to admit that you keep dealing with Zim even when he does stupid shit like this because you're having fun, or stop putting up with it," Gaz said, shrugging. "Things to consider during the naturally occurring meditation of shower time."

"Yeah, yeah, alright," Dib rolled his eyes, trudging up to the bathroom. "Shower meditation, here I come, I guess."

Gaz sighed, and headed back to her computer, sending Keef another message.

<(he's in.)

(Nice! I think this is gonna go great. Lemme know if you need anything, but I'll see if I can't find a good place, and I'll see you Friday!)>

<(aight. later.)

Gaz leaned back in her seat and sighed.

Upstairs, as promised, Dib got himself into the shower, unsticking chunks of his hair from each other and doing what he could to get the bits of pulp completely out. 

Despite initially being sarcastic about the shower meditation, though, it didn't take long for the even beat of water upon his back to leave him falling into thought.

_Did_ he have fun with Zim's antics?

His gut-reaction was no. There was no way! It was serious business. Zim was a menace to this town, even if he didn't intend to take it over anymore, and Dib couldn't just let him do that. If he was left to his own devices, who knew what he would do! It'd be chaos!

A part of his mind tried to oh-so-gently remind him of the adrenaline rush that came with their scuffles.

That part of his mind getting smothered immediately.

He couldn't enjoy their altercations. He couldn't be dealing with Zim after all these years, just from the nature of how long he'd been fighting him. There was no way it was something as ridiculous as complacency or personal enjoyment. He hated Zim! They'd hated one another for over a decade! Zim was an alien menace, and Dib was the sole defender of Earth, they couldn't enjoy each other's company!

What if it was more than that? his evil mind noted in the back of his thoughts.

It absolutely could not be. 

He refused to even humor that thought.

And, as he'd had to do in the middle of the night from time to time, that was shoved as far out of his mind as he could possibly manage, turning to quickly scrub his hair. Anything to take his mind off that.

Oh, Christ, he was a wreck.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

The week passed without incident. Zim hadn't even been doing anything suspect as of late, too wrapped up in his own thoughts.

A date. A courtship attempt. A potential mate.

Were these even things Zim wanted? 

Sure, Zim had been around a while. He'd tried his hand at courting before, back before Earth. It wasn't the courting that was the problem.

It was the rejection. 

Zim absolutely hated to admit it. He despised the idea that he might have any manner of vulnerability. Zim should be accustomed to rejection by now, anyway. Whether he was willing to own that or not (hint: he wasn't), his whole life had been just a series of rejections. He should have been far past the point where it hurt him. But Zim was still so desperate to be validated and liked that it was painful sometimes, and every time he thought about this ridiculous date, his first thought was always the same. _What if he hates me?_

With a nervous sigh, Zim turned to Gir to display his outfit. A purple jacket, with black stripes segmenting it like his tunic and a high collar, paired with his normal pants and shoes. "Well? How do I look?"

"FRESH," Gir replied delightedly, giving a thumbs up. "Like a grape that jus' got home from the grocery store."

Zim processed the compliment, then shrugged. "It'll do. Now to just wait for Keef."

Fortunately, it didn't take Keef very long to come by, picking Zim up and driving him to the small, cozy restaurant he'd picked out for them, telling Zim about a show he knew the Irken would like to avoid giving him time to ask about the date.

Truth be told, Keef was practically as nervous about it as Zim was. He only wanted good things for his friend; what if it didn't work out? What if the two just fought the whole time?

What if Zim hated him for even suggesting this?

That was a thought he wasn't at all ready for, so he just pushed it aside for now. 

After he found Zim a table, he gave him an excited thumbs up as he went over to the bar. He was here if Zim needed him!

Just outside, too, Dib got out of the car, waiting for Gaz to join him and letting out a stressed sigh, fiddling with his shirt. "Are you sure I look okay? I'm not like--- over or underdressed, right?"

"You're fine," Gaz insisted. "It's just a blind date."

"Which makes it even more stressful, I still don't know who to expect," Dib griped.

"It's just a guy!" Gaz sighed. "Listen. You--- just have to trust me. I've known you forever. I know you."

"I know, I know," Dib let out a sigh, before took in a breath to steel himself. "I got this. I got this! I know you wouldn't set me up with anybody you knew would be bad for me. ...Unless I did something to fuck you over. Which--- I really hope I didn't and if so I am so sorry and we can just go if that's the case."

"No, Dib. I am being genuine. I know I don't make it easy to tell, but I am," Gaz insisted, taking his shoulders. "Trust me."

Dib paused, a little caught off guard by the very sincere gesture, but let out a breath, giving a nod. "...I trust you, and--- I really appreciate your help, Gaz. We should... probably get in there, huh?"

"Yep. Get on in, Romeo," Gaz said, giving him a little push.

"Hoo. Okay, I got this." Dib pulled himself together, and stepped into the restaurant, nerves thoroughly steeled.

The second he got in, though, his look of determination dropped to shock, before anger immediately sparked, his face red with embarrassment. 

**"YOU,"** Dib pointed at Zim accusatorily, looking livid. "Are you kidding me!? Are you seriously here to ruin another date? Get a hobby, man!"

**_"YOU!!!"_** Zim hopped up, pointing back and just as angry. "It seems YOU are the one who needs hobbies, Dib-SMELL, because I am here for _my_ date!"

"What? Like I'm going to buy that!" Dib scoffed. "That's the weakest excuse you've ever given me!"

"It's true! Keef has set me up on a blind date with someone I have yet to meet!" Zim insisted. "He's at the bar! Ask him yourself!"

"A blind date? What---" Dib went to retort, but froze, snapping his glance back to Gaz, looking mortified. "You put me on a blind date with HIM?"

Gaz sat next to Keef with her legs crossed. "I told you to trust me. I know what I'm doing."

Zim bristled, hopping on the table and shaking a finger at Keef. "WHAT is the MEANING of this?!"

"Like Gaz said, I know what I'm doing, too!" Keef assured him, grinning awkwardly. "Just trust me!"

"THIS IS AN OUTRAGE!" Zim groaned, flopping back in his seat. "Dib is my worst enemy! My most bitter rival! I want nothing to do with him!"

"Quit shouting before you get kicked out of the restaurant," Gaz remarked coolly. "You guys have been obsessed with each other for twelve fucking years. Whatever it is, you two clearly have some shit to work out, so work it out."

"Ugh, whatever!" Dib huffed, sitting opposite Zim, muttering to him. "Worst comes to worst, we eat dinner, and then we never talk about this again, since we're not getting out of this, apparently."

Zim huffed out a breath, glaring at the table. "No, we're not. Once Keef decides something, that's all there is to it."

"Same thing goes for Gaz," Dib folded his arms across his chest. "I have no idea what these two were thinking. This is stupid."

"It _is_ stupid. Why would I want to spend any amount of time with you?!"

"Maybe they thought that because you won't stop constantly harassing me in public."

Zim bristled again at the accusation. "Me?! You've been harassing ME in public!"

"Oh yeah? What about that one time you broke into my bedroom to put bees in my room! That's weird, Zim!"

"That wasn't in public," Zim asserted, crossing his arms.

"You stood on a ladder and laughed for forty minutes in my front yard!" Dib shot back.

"That's still private property. Your father owns the yard, does he not?"

"It's the front yard, Zim. Everyone in the neighborhood watched it happen. That's pretty public."

"It's not my fault it was hilarious!"

"It was not hilarious, and it was very in public! That's what I'm saying here, you maniac!"

"I only DID that because I was getting YOU back for the thing you'd done to me the week before!" Zim contested.

"Ugh, but I did that because of the week before that!" Dib groaned, exasperated. "This is hopeless."

"At this rate we'd be able to blame our hijinks on each other all the way back to middle school," Zim grumbled.

"Honestly," Dib sighed, frustrated. "Why do you keep coming back to bother me, anyways? I mean--- we're adults, Zim. We're grown men. Well.. grown man and alien of indeterminate age."

"I am also an adult," Zim said, scoffing. 

The waitress, sensing a gap in tension, hurried over. "Hi fellas! Know what you want?"

"Hey! Uhhh. Not yet, I'll do Coke to drink, though, if you have it" Dib smiled awkwardly her way.

"I would like a root beer," Zim said. "And---- spinach and artichoke dip."

"Okay. No problem. I'll get that right out to you," the server agreed, scurrying off.

"...Can I have some spinach and artichoke dip?" Dib asked after an uncertain moment. "I won't try to take pictures of the inside of your house this week in return."

"I GOT IT TO SPLIT, STINK-BEEF."

"WELL EXCUSE ME FOR NOT WANTING TO MAKE ASSUMPTIONS, BUG BASTARD."

"I cannot eat all of those chips by myself! I would spoil my dinner," Zim contested.

"I mean, you're kind of an animal sometimes, I'm never sure with you," Dib pointed out.

"Well--- it's for sharing." Grumbling, Zim slid back into his seat. "Zim is feeling generous."

"Well, uh. Thanks, I guess," Dib muttered. "I guess we might as well be vaguely civil over dinner. I heard the food here is really good, I don't wanna get kicked out."

Zim let out a sigh. "...You're not allowed to get the last word."

"What?" Dib furrowed his brows.

"That's why! That's--- part of it. Why I keep coming after you. You aren't allowed to get the last word! You're not allowed to win!"

"...Really?" Dib paused. "I thought you just wanted to see me constantly miserable, at this point."

"No! I just--- already failed at gaining any social standing on Irk, and I failed at proving myself worthy here on Earth, so--- If I give up, that means you win, and I----" Zim huffed, then growled in frustration. "Gaaaah. Nevermind!"

That had Dib looking a little bewildered, looking like he didn't really believe what he was hearing, but before he could press, the dip and chips came. "Oh--- thank you. Are you, uh. Ready to order, Zim?"

"I would like this pasta dish," Zim said, pointing to the menu. 

"The broccoli alfredo? Absolutely," the waitress said. "For you, sir?"

"I saw you had some kind of steak thing with potatoes and vegetables, I think I'm gonna do that," Dib replied.

The server laughed. "The sirloin platter. Got it. Alright! Back in a bit." She smiled, leaving in better spirits now that they weren't screaming.

"So, uh," Dib started after she'd left, not knowing where to begin. "What was that about... your stuff and why you keep hassling me?"

Zim glared at him. "I--- ugh." The alien hemmed and hawed in his seat, trying to figure out what all he was willing to say, before finally grumbling something inaudible, his voice buried under a handful of chips.

"...What?" Dib furrowed his brows. "I couldn't hear you."

"BECAUSE," Zim said, too loud this time, "you take me seriously and--- I can't let you win!"

Dib blinked owlishly, almost taken aback by that. "Wait, has that been--- it the entire time? The fact that I take you seriously, and--- I can't win because of that?"

"I don't want to talk about it!" Zim shoved another chip in his mouth.

"Alright, whatever," Dib let out a breath, frowning deeply and eating a chip as well. After a moment, though, he recalled what Gaz asked him earlier, and after a tentative few seconds, he spoke up again. "...Listen, if you don't wanna answer, it's whatever, but do you--- enjoy this weird back-and-forth thing we do?"

Zim sipped at his root beer, considering the question genuinely. "...Maybe a little bit."

"...I think I might, too," Dib muttered. "I didn't want to, but... y'know."

"I don't actually have much else going on."

"Me neither, honestly. That date the other day was like... the first time I've gotten out of the house in like a week. And the time before that was stopping you from doing that thing with the rubber chickens."

"No, you shot me with water at the mall after that," Zim pointed out. "I was shopping for scented candles and you attacked me!"

"I thought that was in the same day?" Dib lifted a brow. "And also, like I said before, it was payback."

"I was minding my own business!"

"So was I during the bee incident!"

"That was like a month ago," Zim argued. "You need to let go of the past."

Dib took in a frustrated breath, saying nothing, and shoving some chips in his mouth.

"What?"

"You're just the worst."

"No, _you're_ the worst." Zim scoffed, annoyed. "I have no idea what Keef was thinking, sending me here to meet you?! Surely he must have known you would act this way the entire time. To think I would ever have a reason to feel positively about you. Utterly preposterous."

"I've been trying to be civil!" Dib huffed. "You're the one who keeps bringing up stuff for us to argue about!"

"You're no FUN if you're not arguing with me!"

"See? That's your problem! That's why this can never work out. Because apparently you're only interested in people that aren't Keef if you're not pissing them off."

"Oh, as if you would give me the time of day if I were civil," Zim said, scoffing again.

"Maybe I would!" Dib threw his arms up. "I don't know, because it's literally never happened!"

"No! You wouldn't! Because I'm _nobody!"_ Zim snapped, then caught himself, shrinking back with embarrassment and clearing his throat.

Before, Dib had been geared up to snap back, but when Zim's angry words came, they gave him pause. There was a moment of still silence, before he spoke up again, uncertainly. "...I don't think you're nobody. I wouldn't be so worried about fighting you all the time if you were."

"Don't be ridiculous," Zim grumbled, stabbing the nearly empty dip bowl with a chip as he tried to scrape the dregs out of a corner.

"No, I mean it," Dib insisted, quieter now, almost a little uncertain of his words. He didn't know he had any kind words for Zim, but here he was. "If you were nobody, I wouldn't pay attention to the weird alien stuff you get up to. It wouldn't be worth it. You know?"

"That's the only thing you're worried about," Zim accused. "That's the only reason you care."

"...It's not really just that," Dib admitted. "The dumb back-and-forth stuff is fun. I mean, you're--- kind of fun to be around. In an annoying way."

"And what happens if we stop?" Zim asked, venomous.

"I..." Dib pursed his lips. "...I don't know. I kind of assumed it never would, I guess."

"In what other context have you ever interacted with me?" Zim pressed. "What reason would you have, if not that?"

"I mean--- we've worked together a few times in stuff I wasn't involved in," Dib muttered. "I guess if we weren't fighting, I wouldn't really have anything for you, either. I don't really, uh... have... anything going on for me. So... y'know."

Zim frowned, mulling on that as the waitress returned with their food. "Here ya go, guys! Thanks for being patient."

"Mm," Zim grunted. "Thank you."

"We didn't even notice the wait," Dib assured her, taking the food gratefully, and taking a few moments to just eat in silence. What could he even say, after all that?

Zim shoveled pasta into his mouth, obviously comfort-eating.

There were several long, tense minutes of just eating, before Dib spoke up, letting out a breath of a laugh. "We're kind of lame, huh?"

"I am _not. Lame."_ Zim stabbed his pasta with his fork assertively. "I became an Irken elite and an invader despite my height and being small is the only thing separating me from social advancement. I'm not an idiot or a defective. You can speak for yourself."

"I never called you an idiot or defective," Dib muttered, furrowing his brows. "I don't even know what defective means."

"None of your business," Zim snapped defensively.

"I didn't ask!" Dib scoffed. "Jeez. You know, you accused me of being like this all the time, but I'm trying to actually be nice to you for once, and you're blowing up at me over stuff I don't even understand."

Zim let out a long sigh. "Listen, Dib, you tried. You truly did, and I appreciate that. But everything I was worried about tonight became a reality plus worse so I think it would be best if we acquired some food-courier boxes from the waitress, paid the bill, and forgot about all this."

"...Okay, I guess," Dib sighed, flagging down the waitress. "Can't say we never tried. Back to the usual, or whatever."

"Gaz and Keef were well-intentioned. I can see how our--- frequent bickering could be seen as pining or obsession with one another due to unrequited feelings or whatever nonsense your human TV movies try to sell you," Zim mused. "We should not be too hard on them."

"Mhm," Dib murmured. He didn't seem altogether too chatty, more-so focused on accepting the bill, putting his card in it, and starting to box his food. He would've paid anything not to be here right now, with conflicted feelings and the ache of rejection from the last source he'd ever expected to worry about it, and that was starting to weigh on him more and more with every passing moment.

Zim frowned, confused as to why Dib was acting so sullen. Zim had already dealt with his feelings of rejection the moment Dib sat down by shoving as much tortilla chip and pasta into his face as he possibly could. Of course Dib hated him. Of course. So why did he feel so unsure about that in the moment, watching Dib sulk?

Dib was right there with him, confused as to why it was weighing so heavily on his shoulders. It was just Zim. It wasn't even a friend. It was his mortal enemy. What was his problem? He knew from the moment he got here that nothing was going to happen. Maybe he was just still sore over the previous date. 

"Mind getting the tip?" Dib finally asked, maintaining as much of a casual appearance as he was able to. "I got the rest of it covered."

"Mmhm." Zip dug in the pocket of his jacket, slapping a crumpled wad of cash on the table. It was a 20. "Well, enemy of mine. This was interesting. I bid you goodnight." Somewhat cold, he offered a stiff handshake.

Dib offered just as frigid of a gesture back, shaking his hand, before standing and stuffing his card back in his pocket. "Gaz, you got anything you need to pay for? I'm ready to head home."

"I paid up front for my drinks," Gaz replied, hopping down and shrugging to Keef as she followed Dib out.

"Oh--- so soon?" Keef frowned lightly, glancing between the two. He'd gotten caught up in talking to Gaz since the two stopped yelling. When had things started to go bad? He had no idea.

"Yes, we are done," Zim said. "He hates me. As expected."

"Things seemed like they were going so well, though," Keef murmured, but hopped down from the bar stool, joining him. "I'm... sorry, Zim."

"They did not go well at all the whole entire time," Zim replied. "We simply lowered our voices."

"Oh," Keef scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "...I'll make it up to you. I really am sorry, Gaz talked to me about it, and... I don't know, we both thought it had a chance."

"That's perfectly alright," Zim assured Keef, patting his arm. "You were trying to be helpful. I just need a ride home."

"I got you," Keef agreed, leading him out to the car. "...You gonna be okay?"

"Of course! Why wouldn't I be?" Zim asked, climbing into the car. "Sure, I spent the day obsessively wondering if the person I would meet was going to end up hating me, only to show up to meet someone who already hated me, but at least Dib is the devil I know. I certainly have nothing to fear of his rejection. I never cared for his opinion to begin with!"

"That's... true, I guess," Keef cracked an awkward smile. "Well, hey, we can do drunk romance movies again soon. That's what single best friends do, right?"

"Exactly!" Zim said, then paused. "...Are you doing anything tonight?"

"Nope!" Keef replied. "...You wanna bump that night up to tonight? I'm off work tomorrow."

"Yes please."

"Alright! Let's just go let Gir know, and we can get started."

Meanwhile, Gaz hopped into the passenger’s seat of Dib’s car, sighing. "Didn't go so good, huh?"

"I kind of wish I had just gone through with my weekend plans of laptop Netflix and pretending I didn't exist," Dib muttered, turning on the ignition and starting the two of them homeward. "But... I appreciate what you tried to do. I can see how that'd look like it'd work out, but it wasn't in my cards, I guess."

"...I think," Gaz mused, choosing her words carefully, "that Zim's got some baggage that he needs to unpack before he’s really good for anything or anyone."

"I could've told you that one," Dib sighed. "I'm not worried about it. I think I'm gonna just... stop worrying about romantic stuff for a while. It doesn't work for me, and that's cool. I mean... Dad doesn't worry about it, and he's fine, so it's whatever."

"You seem pretty worried about it," Gaz said pointedly.

"Well, I'm deciding to stop," Dib shot back with a frustrated breath. "It's fine."

"Well..." Gaz watched him for a minute pensively. "I think... at the very least, if it bugged you that much, that maybe... trying was a good idea. ...Maybe you can get some closure."

"What kind of closure?" Dib lifted a brow her way, his expression flat and tired. "I mean, I tried. Even if it didn't work, that's probably enough closure for this whole mess."

"If you felt strongly enough about the guy to be this upset, then you obviously wanted to try. Now you have. You don't gotta worry about, like... 'what if' bullshit," Gaz reasoned.

"I'm not upset about it," Dib muttered, defensive. "I'm just frustrated that I tried and got it thrown back in my face. ...But, yeah, now there's no 'what if's, at least. If there ever really were going to be any. Not gonna have insomnia stress about that one, thank god."

"Dib," Gaz scolded, "if you really wanna move on you gotta own that you wanted that to work."

"He's my mortal enemy!" Dib protested. "I didn't think it was going to work from the get-go!"

"But you wanted it to anyway."

Dib went to argue, but fell into a bitter, upset silence.

"You did what you could," Gaz said, patting his shoulder. "You did good."

Dib sighed, his tense shoulders dropping a bit. "...I'm just sick of being alone. I don't even know why I hoped this would work. I just. I'm.. starting to think I might honestly be unlovable, at this point."

"Dib, you're 24. You got time," Gaz assured him. "Let's go home, bust out that weird discount tequila we bought the other week, and get white girl wasted."

"I think I need that," Dib let out a deep sigh. "...Thanks, Gaz."

"What are bitchy younger sisters for?" she teased, nudging him.

"Keeping stupid older brothers from self-destructing, I guess!" Dib gave a weak laugh, still not all with it, but definitely feeling better than he did when they left the restaurant, if nothing else.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

A few blocks down at Zim's house, Zim and Keef had barely gotten 45 minutes into movie watching with drinks of their own before Zim was in shambles. A notorious lightweight and sugar addict, between the two shots of rum and the sugary mixed drink he'd made and then sucked down, Zim was already well past his limit and weeping openly at 50 First Dates. "He just loves her so much," Zim wailed, face buried in Keef's shirt.

Keef, ever prepared, knew full well that he'd have to stay a few drinks behind Zim for damage control, finding himself pleasantly buzzed as he gave Zim a reassuring pet to the head. "I know, I know. It's tough to be Adam Sandler. They'll be okay."

"SHE LOVES HIM TOO SHE JUST CAN'T REMEMBERRRRRR," Zim lamented. "He's so _dedicated._ What--- what does it take? To find someone who cares that much? What do I have to do? Keef, I need to become an amnesiac."

"Noooo I don't think that's the answer," Keef murmured. "You'll find somebody someday! You're a great guy! It just takes time sometimes!"

"I've been alive for two hundred years," Zim moaned, laying on him. "Everyone hates meeeeee. I knew he was gonna haaaate meeeeeeeee."

"Don't you also hate him, though?" Keef asked, rubbing his back reassuringly.

"I DO BUT I ALSO LIKE HIM AND I WANT HIM TO LIKE MEEEEEEEHEHEHEHHHHHHHH," Zim cried.

"Aww, Zim," Keef frowned gently. "I mean--- maybe he doesn't hate you! There's always a chance you guys could make up."

"Nuuuuuuuuuuuoh he hates me." Zim buried his face in Keef's side. "I ruined the whole dinner and I was yelling the whole time like I always do and if I stop trying to defeat him then he'll never talk to me agaaaaaaain he probably doesn't even wanna be rivals anymore uuuugh." Drunkenly sobbing, Zim rolled himself into a blanket burrito and flopped onto the floor. "Just let me DIIIIIIIIIEEEEEE."

"I'm not gonna let you diiiiiie," Keef flopped onto the floor with him. Solidarity. "Why don't we try to fix it! I bet you we could."

Gir, just here to hang out, also laid on the floor. "Weeeeeeeeeeh," he wailed plaintively, just wanting to be part of the fun.

"Don't patronize me," Zim moaned miserably. "I can't just fix it, Keef, he hates my guts and probably doesn't even want to cut them out of me anymore. Ugh."

"What if I messaged him. Right now. And fixed it," Keef challenged, rolling onto his side. "I bet I could! I'm adorable and people listen to me."

"NO YOU'LL JUST EMBARRASS ME!!!" Zim smacked at Keef. "Gir you have to help. Take Keef's phone and eat it."

"Is it a pizza phone?" Gir asked. 

"It is. You have to eat it. It will save my life."

Hopping up, Gir pounced on Keef playfully. "GIMME!"

"NOOOO GIR IT'S NOT A PIZZA PHONE PLEASE IT WAS SO EXPENSIVE TO REPLACE LAST TIIIIIME."

"GIMME THAT PIZZA!"

Zim laughed quietly to himself, watching them tussle.

"WAIT!" Keef lifted a hand up. "There's normal not-phone pizza in the fridge! GO GET IT, BOY!"

"PIIIIIZZAAAAA!" Gir lept off of Keef and hit the floor in a dead-sprint to the fridge, barking like a dog.

Zim, still laughing, unrolled himself, but then just... laid there. Quiet. "...He takes seriously," Zim murmured at last. "Or… at least… he used to. ...I loved that."

Keef rolled onto his stomach, leaning his head into one of his hands. "...How come you didn't tell him that today? That it meant so much to you, I mean."

"Because I'm stupid and he would have laughed at me," Zim murmured.

"Do you ever, like--- worry about the what-ifs, though?" Keef asked. "I worry about them all the time. Like, today, I thought you were gonna hate me ‘cause I helped set up that date."

"All day," Zim murmured, keeping his voice close to a whisper as if it would make him somehow less emotionally vulnerable, "I worried, over and over, 'what if my date hates me?' And he hated me... before I even knew who he was. He already hated me so much. ...being hated is the only way I know how to get people's attention."

"Welllllll," Keef trailed off, reaching out to pat Zim's hand and offer him a smile. His role in this was the sentimental drunk friend, and he gave Zim the most meaningful look as he spoke. "You got my attention, and I never hated you. So what if you can talk to him, and he doesn't either? You've been the best friend I could've ever asked for, even after all that stuff, and I know people can see that."

Zim's eyes welled with tears again, his mouth contorting and his lip quivering. He rolled onto his back and let out a wail, proceeding to ugly-cry. Clearly he was too drunk to handle this level of emotion.

"Aww, no, Zim, don't cry!" Keef tried to comfort him, scooting and throwing his arm over the Irken in a haphazard hug. "Shhhhh, shhhhh, it's gonna be okay, buddy."

Zim whimpered and cried, struggling to find time to breathe. "You're so n-nice to me."

"Of course!" Keef smiled brightly. "You deserve to have people be nice to you!"

Zim sniffled. "I don't _want_ to love Dib."

"Would it be harder to love him or forget that you did?" Keef asked gently.

"I don't know," Zim whined. "I just don't want to."

"Love sucks sometimes!" Keef agreed, giving him a pat. "I think you're gonna be okay, though. I got a good feeling about it."

Zim sighed. "It's easier to hate him..." He let out a weary groan. "I need to go to bed. I'm too intoxicated."

"Wanna sleep on the couch or the other side of my bed?" Keef asked. It was something that'd probably be odd for human friends, but Zim had broken into his bedroom for platonic warmth-leeching before, so now he just offered out of habit.

"Eh. Couch." 

Gir trotted out of the kitchen, pizza in hand. "Oooooooh, we gonna stay with Keef tonight?"

"Yes, Gir, I have to sleep off all the poison I drank," Zim explained, climbing up onto the couch a bit pathetically. 

"Woo!" Gir lept up after him. "I like Keef's house! He's always got the sweetie snacks. I found them brownies with the rainbow sprinkles. "

Zim sighed. "I'll have to buy you a new box, Keef."

"Don't worry about it, I basically only keep them here for him anymore," Keef couldn't help a fond chuckle, moving to stand and grabbing the fleece blanket, passing it over to him. "If you need anything, I'll probably be awake for a little while longer, so just lemme know."

"Okay," Zim agreed tiredly, flopping over on the couch.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

At the Membrane household, Gaz and Dib were winding down from a bender of their own, trying and failing to play a game of Mario Party. "Uuuuugh how is Waluigi still beating us," Gaz groaned. "He doesn't even win the mini games that much, he just keeps getting luckyyyyy."

"I KNOOOOW," Dib whined. "He hit the lucky space block twice! It's bullshit!"

"I hate him so FUCKING much," Gaz grumbled. "I'm a game developer, goddamnit."

"Your people made him like this," Dib gave her a playful poke, shooting her an overly dramatic glare.

"Hey, Nintendo isn't my people. I _wish_ I was that much of a badass."

"Baddassery comes at the price of Waluigi being on this shit, Gaz."

"I'm not taking the fall for this one, rat bastard. I'm gonna steal all your fucking stars because you said that," Gaz grumbled.

"No!" Dib groaned. "Then he'll definitely win!"

"Fuck you, Dib."

"Hey. Hey. I'm drunk, you have to be nice to me."

"I'm drunk too I don't gotta do shiiiiiiit," Gaz said, then let out a sigh, patting Dib’s leg clumsily. "But you did have a pretty rough night."

"I did," Dib heaved an exaggerated sigh. "Tonight sucked. So much. I thought it would suck less if I got drunk, and it does, because drunk Mario Party is the pinnacle of human experience, but it still sucks because of all that."

"Uuuuugh I'm sorry I thought for sure it'd work," Gaz groaned. "Or that you guys would at least, like. I dunno. Bang it out or something."

"First of all: ew," Dib snickered, but his smirk dropped, and he heaved a sigh, a more legitimate one this time. "...You know what sucks? Some really stupid part of me still wishes it could've worked. Because I'm dumb and easily attached. And also stupid."

"Hey man, you guys have been like super invested in each other for one reason or another for over a decade," Gaz pointed out.

"I guess, but," Dib paused, pursing his lips, looking like the words were evading him. "I... shouldn't have expected one awkward date to change stuff. It's probably just lonely-brain talking, and he's the only one who's thought I was competent and also not completely out of my mind for--- god, years."

"I don't think I've ever heard Zim call you crazy," Gaz said. "I know that's... kind of a trigger word for you."

"Yeah," Dib frowned, flopping back on the couch and ignoring the mini-game trial screen for a moment. "Aaaaand now he hates my guts more than before. Good job, me."

"I dunno, he seemed pretty chill actually."

"It... was not chill. We just lowered our voices 'cause the food was good and we didn't wanna get kicked out."

"He shook your hand and shit," Gaz pointed out.

"If you were sitting closer, you'd be able to see that it was... _so_ tense," Dib murmured. "And it was right after an agreement to pretend it never happened."

"It's chiller than he usually is," Gaz mused. "...Unless that's a bad thing. Knowing him, it might be."

Dib was quiet for a moment, before he gave Gaz the most pathetic dejected look, looking like he might cry. "Gaz, am I actually just crazy, and that's why nobody ever likes me for more than five minutes after I start talking?"

"You're not crazy," Gaz said, sighing. "You're just really enthusiastic about stuff that not everyone believes or understands, and you're a little tactless. But you're not crazy."

"I guess..." Dib sighed deeply. "I wish I could just--- be normal sometimes. And be liked by people. Even just for like a minute. That way I don't get stupid, shitty, sentimental feelings for my arch nemesis because there's no one else outside of my family that gives me the time of day."

Gaz made a face, pushing her lips off to one side of her face thoughtfully. "That the only reason you like him?"

"I wish," Dib sighed deeply, not budging from where he'd been flopped back.

"Good, because I was gonna feel like a jackass if that was all."

"Nope. It's just what started it, I think, when I was like--- 14? Or something. And it just kept getting worse. And now I want _die."_

"You're not allowed to have die," Gaz scolded.

"Whhhyyyyyyy," Dib lamented.

"Because I haven't decided that it's time," Gaz said sagely.

"What if I make a point of being extra annoying? Could we bump up me getting murdered time?"

"It'll get pushed back."

"Oh, god."

"I alone control the rate at which you die, Dib Membrane."

"You are a cruel and malevolent god."

"Damn straight."

"Well. Even if I can't die, I sure as fuck am gonna sulk for like two weeks."

"Why don't you just tell him the truth, man?" Gaz raised a brow. "What if he's just as bad at this shit as you are?"

"But what if he legitimately does hate me, and holds it over my head for the rest of his life?" Dib frowned deeply.

"I dunno, man, then at least you got the answers you needed," Gaz grumbled.

"...That's true," Dib paused, sitting up at least. "What if I did it right now? And if it sucks, I can blame it on being drunk. It's foolproof!"

Gaz snorted. "That's stupid. Do it."

"Should I call him or text him?" Dib asked, already peeling himself off the couch, catching a light stumble, before fishing his phone out of his pajama pants pocket.

"Do you even have his number?"

"Yeah, Keef made me take it once when he was trying to force us to be friends."

"Oh yeah," Gaz said. "Maybe text him so you can screen yourself a little bit."

"True, alright," Dib took in a breath. "Here goes nothing."

And, with sloppy typing that took a lot of effort, he jotted out a message. 

<(zim hey are u around)  
<(also this is dib blame keef for giving me ur number back in high school)

Zim, however, was out fucking cold. He groaned in his sleep, slapping his phone as he tried to get it to stop buzzing, accidentally responding in the process.

(m)>

<(oh uh)  
<(ok)  
<(are you... dead?)

(b;ep)>

"Hey, Gaz, I think Zim is having a stroke, what do I do?"

"He's fine."

"Okay."

<(press 1 if ur having a stroke)

(f)>

<(no not respects)  
<(ugh come on man work with me here)

No response this time, as Zim angrily threw his phone across the room, half asleep and hungover.

<(ok good talk let's just pretend this never happened my bad)

Dib took in a breath, tossing his phone to the couch, and groaning loudly. "He keysmashed at me and stopped answering. This sucks!"

Gaz shrugged. "What if he's asleep? It's like 2am."

"Oh, god, it's like 2am."

"Just send him your confession and let him get it in the morning," Gaz suggested.

"Ugh, yeah, that's a good idea," Dib sighed, picking his phone back up. And, after a moment of hesitation, he jotted out his message. 

<(hey so actually i'm gonna get this out real quick but uh. ok. hoo boy.)  
<(i've had like. a thing. like since we were younger. and like. idk. i've got stupid shitty sentimental feelings and i know you probably don't but like. i think you're legitimately a fun and decently cool guy to be around when ur not intentionally being a dick and. i. uh. i realized with that stupid thing earlier today that i've been kind of shoving it out of my mind for years and fuck that sooooo)  
<(i'm gonna pass out now but if this is weird disregard it and also i didn't sent it i was possessed ok? goodnight)

"Good job, buddy," Gaz said. "Let's get you to bed."

"Thanks, Gaz," Dib gave her a lazy smile, letting out a yawn. He was very ready for bed. "We'll finish kicking Waluigi's ass in the morning or something."

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

The following morning, Zim slept late, snoring loudly on Keef's couch. He'd probably only be woken by food.

Fortunately, Keef had peeled himself out of bed before too long, and knew full and well that he wouldn't be able to get Zim up. And, not wanting to cook, he did the next best thing: order out breakfast sandwiches, toting in the good-smelling bag and plopping down on the couch, simply sitting one of the sandwiches on Zim's chest. 

"Rise and shine, Zim! C'mon, it's like 1, I got breakfast," Keef teased fondly. "Gir, deactivate sleep mode!"

Gir sprung to life at Keef's voice. "I SMELL SAUSAGE!"

Zim groaned. "Uuuuuugh just leave me here to die."

"I got you one of those ham and cheese croissant sandwiches!" Keef urged him, passing Gir the sausage one he'd gotten. "And a bottle of strawberry lemonade. It'll make you feel better!"

"Ehhhh, I guess," Zim grumbled, sitting up. "Where's my phone?"

"In the middle of the floor," Keef replied, kicking his feet up on the table. "I heard something thump out here, so I think you dropped it in the middle of the night."

"Mmm." Zim hopped down from the couch, going to get it. He frowned. "I got messages from a weird number..."

"Oh, weird," Keef lifted a brow. "Maybe it's spam messages? I've gotten a few of those lately."

Taking out his sandwich and shoving a bite in his mouth, he opened the messages, frowning. "They're from Dib."

"Wait, really?" That had Keef's interest, leaning over to try to get a look. "What's it about?"

"...I have absolutely no idea."

"...Huh. Yeah, that sure is... completely incoherent."

Huffing a sigh, Zim texted back.

(THIS IS COMPLETELY INCOMPREHENSIBLE THANKS.)>

A few minutes passed where the two shrugged it off, eating breakfast, before Zim's phone got a message in response. 

<(what's incomprehensible? don't see anything. think u might have the wrong number. who is this?)

(WH. FUCK YOU. THANKS FOR CONFUSING ME FOR NO REASON.)>

<(listen i tried to type that out when i was drunk ok, cut me some slack)

(WELL DONT PRETEND IT WASN'T YOU!!!!)>

<(i just woke up and embarrassment-panicked!!!)

(WHAT DOES THIS MEAN????)>

<(it means. uhhhhh)  
<(well i mean it could really mean anything at this point)

(YEAH NO SHIT, IT'S SO VAGUE IT COULD MEAN LITERALLY. ANYTHING.)>

<(would you buy it if i said it was up for artistic interpretation?)

(MY ARTISTIC INTERPRETATION IS THAT YOU ARE BEING A JACKASS.)>

<(your artistic interpretation sucks)

(OKAY BYE.)>

<(wait no hang on ugh i suck at this)  
<(it was, like.)  
<(a confession.)  
<(of stupid sentimental garbage.)  
<(at 2am when i was drunk)

Zim frowned, scrolling back up to re-read the message, puzzling over it. 

(OH. OKAY. WELL, UH. THANK YOU.)>

<(you're, uhhhh. welcome. i guess)  
<(if it's weird just go ahead and pretend it didn't happen)

(NO IT'S. I APPRECIATE IT. YOU ARE... MY ONLY OTHER "FRIEND" BESIDES KEEF.)>

<(same)  
<(well i mean i'm not really that close with keef but you know what i mean)

(I AM GLAD YOU DON'T WANT ME TO STOP COMING AROUND.)>

<(well, if i didn't have u bugging me all the time, i'd get too much done lol. it's part of the natural balance)

(EXACTLY!! THE ONLY REASON I HAVEN'T DESTROYED YOUR PITIFUL PLANET IS BECAUSE YOU KEEP THINGS INTERESTING.)>

<(wow, keeping the whole earth around just because of me? talk about some pressure [eyes][sweat-drops])

(THAT AND KEEF'S COOKING.)>

<(man, rip to keef if i die, that guy's gotta cook to save the world)

(HAHA. I'M SURE HE WOULD MANAGE. BUT YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED TO DIE UNLESS I KILL YOU.)> 

<(too bad for you, gaz said i can't die until She decides i get to die. unstoppable force vs immovable object)

(I WILL BE ARRANGING A DUEL WITH HER FOR THE RIGHT TO END YOUR LIFE NEXT WEEK)>

<(my money's on her tbh)

( WE SHALL SEE, STINK-MAN! WE SHALL SEE. ANYWAY I AWAIT YOU GETTING ME BACK FOR THE ORANGE JUICE. GOOD TALK YES?)>

<(yeah good talk! see you at your inevitable downfall [peace-sign])

(HAH. AS IF!!! THE DOWNFALL WILL BE YOURS!!!)>

<(as if you'll even see it coming >:) )

(OH HO, IT IS YOU WHO WILL BE SURPRISED, HUMAN!!!)>

Zim grinned down at his phone, typing excitedly, then sighed. "Ahh. Back to normal. I hate him so much," Zim said fondly.

"You guys are the two most ridiculous people I've ever met," Keef remarked with a snicker. "Glad to hear you made up!"

"As am I. I am pleased that I will no longer be saddled with weird residual feelings!" Zim grinned. This was a lie.

"And you don't think that you guys going back to duking it out all the time is gonna make those worse?" Keef half-joked.

"Of course not! I am most certainly finished being in love with the Dib."

"If you say so!"

"I do. Now. Time for video games!"

"Yeah! I got a few new ones to show you, you're gonna love 'em."

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Meanwhile, back at home and unwilling to leave his dark room, Dib texted his sister.

<(gaz you're never gonna fucking believe this.)  
<(i got rival-zoned. he didn't catch at all what the message was about. it's better this way tho i'm over it)

(no ur fucking not u dumbass)>

<(i totally am tho it's cool it's fine)

(u geek ass moron tell him the truth>

<(or i can just keep stupid gay feelings inside and die with them like everybody else)

(ugh fine be miserable you're driving me crazy)>

<(u signed up for this)

(i really didn't but ok)>

<(im sorry im a useless gay)

(whatever man have fun continuing to pine)>

<(isn't that what we're meant to do as gays tho? we're contractually obligated to yearn)

(while this is true, this particular yearning is unnecessary and also stupid)>

<(you would be the same way if you had an alien rival to pine for i don't even wanna hear i

(whatever. ill get my chance 2 say i told u so later.)>

<(ok sure whatever poke my corpse with the shoving stick if u need anything)

Sighing, Gaz rolled her eyes, and sent Keef a message. 

(update: failed date awakened something in dib and now he's driving me insane with gay rival pining)>

<(Oh man. :( )

Keef took a moment to glance over at Zim, who was too engrossed in a minigame Keef wasn't a part of to notice his texting, before he messaged back. 

<(Zim too tbh. I don't know if the fact that it's mutual gay rival pining makes things better or worse. <:/ )

(why are they so fucking stupid )>

<(It's just who they are as people. Really dumb overdramatic nerds. :') )

(this is pure agony. I went thru a week where i had fucking pigmouth and i would rather relive that week than deal w this)>

<(I don't know what pigmouth is and I don't think I want to know. One thing I know is that there's gotta be a way to get them to stop this because if he spends another twenty minutes telling me how not concerned about Dib he is I think I might just lose my mind. I love him but oh my god.)  
<(Any suggestions?)

(ill think abt it. gimme some time.)>

<(I'll be around! Just hit me with whatever you got whenever you get it.)

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

And, as the days passed, things slowly eased back into some sense of normalcy. Dib denied any variety of residual attraction once he'd gotten back into the swing of being rivals with Zim ("it was just misplaced", "I was drunk and sad", etc), and the two fell back into their usual patterns.

This included, of course, Dib getting Zim back for the orange juice, as promised.

And, in the evening, just as he watched Zim depart for a store trip, he knocked on the door, not waiting for Gir to answer before he stepped inside. He had to get in quickly before the gnomes, slowed with age, could catch onto his presence.

"Hey, Gir!" Dib called from the doorway. "I got a present for you to give to Zim! It's not bees. Mind holding it for me?"

"Sure!" Gir agreed, heading to meet Dib at the door before Zim popped out of another room and full-body shoved Gir to the floor.

"NO GIR DON'T," Zim shouted, running in from the kitchen and body-tackling his robot.

Gir, of course, screamed.

"Wait what the fuck you just left!!" Dib gawked at the two, furrowing his brows, before looking down at the bag in his hands. It was vibrating.

Actually, he could work with this.

Looking up at Zim, he smiled wryly.

"Yes,” Zim began to explain, “but I saw your car so I came back in through the windo---- wait what are you doing with that." 

Casually, he tossed the bag at the two of them.

And then came the bees.

The pockets popped open. Bees exploded into the house, sending both Gir and Zim running frantically. Zim shrieked. Gir laughed.

Dib, having learned rather thoroughly from his own bee incident that the bees wouldn't worry about him if he didn't panic, stood perfectly still amid the chaos, enjoying the show. Then, after soaking in his victory for a moment, he moved to trek up the stairs. Might as well steal alien technology while he was here. He needed something to tinker with, anyways, considering he finished experimenting on the last things he'd stolen to look at. "Bye be right back don't get bees in your eyes!"

"WAIT! DIIIIB! THERE'S---- THERE'S NO TECH UPSTAIRS!" Zim shouted after him, his tone almost pleading.

"Yeah, and you said that last time you put tech in my spine," Dib rolled his eyes. "Be back soon!"

"WAIT!!! GAH," Zim swatted at the bees, covering his face. He really did not want Dib to go into his bedroom. Fighting his way through the swarm, he attempted to follow Dib upstairs.

Unfortunately for Zim, Dib knew from previous raids that the bedroom was where Zim kept his current pet projects. And, with the sounds of Gir's continued screaming, he could only assume Zim was still down there, too. Opening the door slowly to make sure there were no traps rigged up, he stepped inside, glancing around to see what he could find.

Much to his disappointment, there was only one project up in Zim's room this time. However, by the looks of it, it was a rather unique project, much smaller than most of the things that he made. On top of that, it didn’t even look like a weapon or even a contraption that could be useful in battle. All that was on Zim’s desk was a little box with a lens, that sat on a desk, surrounded by parts and tiny tools.

"What is that...?" Dib murmured quietly to himself, taking the tiny box with interest. Usually, he'd just shove it in his pocket and run, but he'd never seen anything so small and fragile looking created by Irken hands before.

When touched, bright light flashed from the lens.

"WH--- Huh?" Dib had initially jolted, expecting it to be painful or dangerous or explosive, or any number of horrible things.

But it wasn't a weapon. It was a projection. A hologram.

Dib paused, looking down at the streams of blue light pointed at his chest and realizing his body was interrupting the projection, intercepting whatever shape it was. Setting it down gently, he furrowed his brows, stepping back to get a better look.

The image was half-finished and malformed, still requiring some tweaks, but the intended figure became clear after a moment. A glitchy, light blue projection of Dib with an outstretched hand, palm open, as if waiting to accept someone else's.

Dib gawked at his own face, the lightly-jittering image shaking with the light distortion. He barely knew what to think about this. Why would Zim have an image of him in this box? What was going on?

Uncertain, he put his hand in the hologram's. Would that make something else happen? He had no idea. What sort of extents could Zim even have with this sort of thing? Dib couldn't even begin to wrap his head around the possibilities.

Unfortunately, the animation only went so far as fingers curling to hold the hand the hologram was offered. It was clearly a work in progress. Even the small gesture had Dib's face red and his mind racing, though. What did this mean? Dib knew what it looked like, but--- Zim had made it clear that the two were only vaguely friends, mostly antagonists to one another. But this... seemed too soft for that. Too sentimental. 

When there came the thumping of stairs, though, Dib scrambled to turn it off, and with a split-second decision, stepped briskly into Zim's closet, wedging his tall, thin body in between the astonishing amounts of clothes he had. Nope, no, not about to get busted with that thing; what would he even say? He had no idea. Best to just wait and sneak out until he could get his thoughts together, if he could.

Zim came thumping up the stairs hurriedly, practically on all fours. "...no no no _no no no,"_ he muttered, his voice growing louder. "DIB. WHERE ARE YOU."

Dib held his breath to avoid being heard. Oh shit he should not have come up here.

Zim ran into his room. The color drained from his face as he bent down to pick up a fallen tool and place it back on the desk. "...Dib?"

Zim was met with silence. Not even so much as a shift in the room.

Upset, Zim picked up the box. "Stupid, stupid," he grumbled, unscrewing the lens from its housing. "I should have destroyed this ridiculous thing. I was a fool to even _make_ it."

Dib leaned forward a bit, frowning and watching through a crack in the closet door. So it _was_ what he thought it was. And... he couldn't think of a time he'd ever seen Zim this upset. It was clearly very personal, which made something stupid twist in his chest.

Zim struggled to disassemble it with his hands before getting too frustrated, not even bothering with tools and electing to just throw it and smash it on the wall with a sharp, distressed cry. Metal crunched and glass broke. All Zim’s work, which was for a project that was clearly special to him, obliterated in an instant by his own hand. "I don't even know WHY I BOTHERED," he snapped. "YOU PROBABLY ALREADY SAW IT!"

Feeling guilty, Dib stiffened, moving to shuffle back to the back of the closet. Oh, god, he fucked up.

He fucked up even worse when his back pushed against a clothes hanger, though, the small metallic screech making his blood run cold.

Oh, shit.

Zim jumped at the sound, then stared at the closet, his blood boiling. Leaping up, he nearly tore the closet door off its hinges while throwing it open to give Dib the most murderous look he had ever given in his many, many years of malicious intent. _**"YOU.”**_

"Oh shit oh shit okay listen I just---" Dib tried to sink further back, lifting his hands defensively. "I didn't see anything so if we can just talk about this for a second I---"

"I KNOW YOU SAW IT!" Zim barked, absolutely livid. "YOU KNOCKED A BUNCH OF MY _SHIT_ OFF THE DESK FROM PICKING IT UP!"

"I MEAN OKAY I PICKED IT UP BUT I DIDN'T---" Dib flinched, curling in on himself. "Just--- stop shouting for one second and let me---"

_"DON'T LIE TO ME!"_ Zim screamed, his fist in the air threateningly, like he was ready to haul off and punch Dib's lights out. Pin-prick sized tears welled at the edges of his eyes.

"ZIM!" Dib shouted, trying to cut him off before he got decked in the face. "Just let me TALK for a second, okay!?"

"Why?" Zim seethed. "So you can lie to me more?!"

"No!" Dib snapped. "I just--- ugh, I'm trying to figure out how to say this! And you looking like you're going to rip my head off isn't helping!"

"You VIOLATED my PRIVACY," Zim snapped.

"You violate my privacy all the time!!" Dib threw his arms up. "That's not the point! I just--- what I'm trying to say is---"

“AAAAUGH!" Zim turned away, upset, finding the box on the floor already broken and stomping on it with a loud, frustrated cry. "I HATE YOU SO MUCH!"

"THEN WHY DID YOU HAVE THAT HOLOGRAM?!" Dib snapped, finally pulling himself out of the closet. Finally, him raising his voice brought the chaos to a halt, leaving Zim standing with his back to Dib in cold and bitter silence. "It doesn't even matter! I just--- this is stupid, I--- I just. It... doesn't even bother me, but. I... should go, I think."

With a deep frown, Zim stared down at the ruins of his beloved project, falling to his knees and scooping up the shattered pieces. When he spoke again, his voice was uncharacteristically waterlogged and quiet. "...Do whatever you want."

Dib frowned, moving to the door, not knowing what to say. After a moment, though, he stopped, swallowing thickly. He had to say _something._

And, putting forth all of his nerve, he moved to beside the bed, picking up a few of the pieces that'd clattered away. He didn't look at the Irken yet: he was still trying to decide on his words, but there wasn't any anger left in his features, just... stress. Something held back that he wanted to say, but couldn't. Why couldn't he say it?

Zim piled the bent and broken pieces on his desk, producing a broom and dustpan from his PAK and sitting back on the floor with a sigh to sweep up the broken glass. Zim didn't have the energy to be angry either.

"...Hey, Zim," Dib spoke, his voice hushed. "...That was a really amazing piece of technology. I'm... sorry I messed with it."

"It's gone now," Zim murmured.

After a moment of heavy silence, Dib looked over to him, scrutinizing his face, as if looking for something. An indicator, but he wasn't sure of what yet.

But Zim's expression never faltered from its pained, forlorn look. Zim stared down at his broken work, picking at the tiny pieces. The whole thing had been so small. So delicate.

Dib hesitated for a moment, before he lifted an uncertain hand. For a second, he faltered, unsure of himself, before he moved an arm around Zim, giving him a small squeeze. A silent apology; a gesture of care.

Zim didn't pull away, heaving a breath. He ran his hands over his face sullenly. "I'm so stupid. Why did I do that?"

"You were upset," Dib murmured. "I... can't say I've never done anything like that."

Sighing, Zim set his head down on the desk. "Utterly humiliating."

Dib didn't know what to do, simply leaning against the desk for the moment. "...I--- didn't realize you... y'know."

"I had to do _something,"_ Zim grumbled. "You got my hopes up with your incoherent text message."

"I..." Dib trailed off, pursing his lips. "So, you read it as--- romantic feelings?"

"I didn't know _what_ to make of that absolute nonsense you sent, but… I thought there was a chance," Zim said.

"...That's what it was," Dib murmured.

A beat passed, then another, before Zim looked up from the desk in shock. "IT WAS?!"

"I thought you interpreted it wrong, and--- was too embarrassed to try to correct you, so, I just--- rolled with it!" Dib explained, his face red with embarrassment. "Because I am. So spectacularly dumb when it comes to this stuff."

"I wasn't sure!!! I was trying to gauge it!" Zim pushed him lightly. "You were going to deny the whole thing as well! You're a jerk."

"I panicked!" Dib protested. "I didn't--- wanna make stuff weird between us! I don't exactly have a lot of friends, you know!"

"You--- augh," Zim groaned, rubbing his forehead. "I don't know. It's ridiculous that I would have--- feelings for you! After our years of fighting! But I don't even want to take over the Earth anymore, I just kept making up schemes to--- to spend time with _you!"_

"You're kidding!" Dib gave a disbelieving laugh. "Why do you think I kept getting you back? I mean--- I obviously wasn't even admitting it to myself, but--- I wanted to hang out! You're fun to be around! Ugh, goddamn it, we're stupid, Zim."

"We are," Zim admitted begrudgingly. "I... didn't even think about it that way, really, but... I started feeling all soft and stupid and melty when you said all those nice things about me in your message."

"Yeah?" Dib grinned, somewhere torn between awkward and a little hopeful.

Zim flustered, frowning. "It's because!! No one ever says things like that about me! Cut me some slack!" 

"Hey, I mean--- I meant it!" Dib gave an embarrassed laugh. "Also, your face is so green right now. Like, greener than usual!"

"Well you're all pink!" 

"Yeah, so?" Dib teased back.

"So you can't make fun of me!" Zim huffed.

"I can, I have to, and I will," Dib joked, giving Zim a playful nudge.

"Ugh, I take it back, I'm breaking up with you," Zim grumbled.

"Nope, too late!" Dib grinned, and in an elated gesture, scooped Zim up into a playful, delighted hug. "You're stuck with me now!"

"NO!" Zim grumbled. "I'm LEAVING YOU like a BLONDE WOMAN IN A SOAP OPERA!"

"Alright, here ya go," Dib sat him down, leaning back against the table and gesturing to the door. "Your move, space boy."

"Wh--- no this is my house." Zim put his hands on his hips. "You get out!"

"Okay," Dib agreed casually, turning for the door.

"Wh-- Okay bye!"

"Okay! Bye!" Dib kept walking, slower and slower.

"BYE."

"GOODBYE ZIM!"

"GOOOODBYYYYYYE DIB."

Dib had made it completely out the door now. “Goooodbyyyyyyyyyyye…”

After a pause, Zim crossed his arms and huffed. "Ugh fine come back."

"Nice. Earth one, Irk zero."

"Nevermind leave."

"Okay bye---"

"ENOUGH."

With a snort and a laugh, Dib moved over, just sitting on Zim's bed instead. "Alright, alright! I'll stay. Partially because there's still buzzing downstairs."

"Yes, you'll have to wait up here until Gir eats them," Zim said.

"...W--- wait, hang on, he what---"

"Don't worry about it."

"I think I'm just going to force myself to forget I heard that."

"Good idea." Zim sighed, flopping back onto his bed.

"Sorry about the bees," Dib remarked, flopping back against the soft bed as well, stretching out. He'd sort of hunched over in the closet, so he needed to straighten out a bit.

"The hubris is yours," Zim replied, patting Dib's leg. "Now you're trapped."

"There's worse places to be trapped," Dib said playfully.

"Not like we haven't been trapped together before." Zim snickered. "This time... feels different."

"Maybe it's because we're not blaming each other for it this time?" Dib teased, rolling onto his side after a moment.

"Maybe." Zim felt his chest clench as Dib’s eyes met his.

"It's nice," Dib gave a nervous smile.

Zim swallowed roughly and put his palms on his face. "Nnngh. You're a menace."

"What did I do?" Dib gave a little laugh, giving Zim a lightly confused look.

"YOU--- MAKE ME FEEL LIKE I'M IN ONE OF THOSE STUPID MOVIES KEEF AND I WATCH WHEN WE'RE DRUNK."

"What? ...Oh my god, do you get drunk with Keef and watch schmoopy romance movies? I had a feeling you would do that if you got drunk!"

Zim whined. "We watched 50 First Dates the night you and I went out..."

"Ohhhh," Dib hummed thoughtfully. "And the keysmashes were... drunk, not-awake keysmashes probably, right?"

"It was me trying to make my phone stop vibrating," Zim confessed. 

"Oh man," Dib let out an embarrassed laugh. "Yeah, I was, uhhh. I thought you were... answering me? Kind of? I was... pretty out of it that night. It was sibling-bonding drunk Mario Party night."

"No, I was half awake and slapping my phone to get it to shut up." Zim snickered.

"Welp. Guess that mystery's solved!" Dib snickered, still looking a little flustered. "Didn't know it needed solving, but here we are."

"If it's not in capslock you can safely assume it is not me," Zim teased.

"Why _do_ you type in capslock all the time?"

"Because I _think_ in capslock."

"...Huh. You know?"

"Anyway, returning to my point, you're a menace and that's that on that," Zim repeated. "You have no right giving me these stupid ridiculous feelings and being all... like that."

"Like what?" Dib lifted his brows.

"NICE and ADORABLE."

"Awww, you think I'm a cute menace," Dib teased, reaching out to gently and playfully pat Zim's cheek.

"DON'T PATRONIZE ME," Zim barked, swatting his hand away. "Jerk."

"I'm not patronizing you!" Dib laughed, unbothered by the swatting.

"You are! And you are failing to maintain the movie scene romance."

"But I'm so cute. I maintain movie scene romance with that alone. Unless I need to be more like a movie-scene romantic guy?"

"Try it. I dare you."

Managing to put on a front of confidence for playfulness' sake, Dib shifted closer, running the back of his knuckles over Zim’s cheek, lowering his voice to a murmur. "Like this?"

"Mm." Zim nuzzled his face into Dib's hand gently. "This is nice..."

Dib hadn't actually expected that to work, and even with the light affection, was made to deal with just how touch-starved he had gotten over the years, himself. He kept up the gentle pets, though, admiring the odd skin texture he had. It was so similar, but so different to human skin. "It's a really nice change of pace from fighting, huh?"

"Mmhmm," Zim purred, leaning into every touch and absolutely melting into silly putty.

Drawn closer by how thoroughly pleased Zim looked, Dib moved his arm, shifting it over Zim instead of on his head. And, despite some worries of it seeming too forward, found himself snuggling up close, tucking his head overtop of Zim's own, letting out a light, content breath as he did.

"Nnn," Zim hummed, leaning into him and clinging to his shirt. "...Can you do me a favor? It's a little odd..."

"What's up?" Dib asked quietly, keeping Zim close all the while, absolutely relishing in every ounce of touch.

"...Say nice things to me again."

"Hm?" Dib lifted his brows. After a moment of thought, though, he ran his hands down Zim's back gently, speaking up again. "...You're an amazing inventor. When I found that thing, even if I was confused, it was incredible. You're also... hmm. Pretty attractive, for sure. Handsome, even."

Zim took a deep breath which caught in his throat. "You think so?"

"Mhm," Dib hummed gently. "I also noticed you've gotten really into fashion lately, and you always look really nice."

"Thank you," Zim murmured, leaning into him. "I try..."

"Your effort really pays off," Dib murmured back. "And... hmmm. I love how driven you are about everything. You can do whatever you put your mind to if you really want to, and that's kind of amazing."

Zim's hands curled in Dib's shirt. "Oh wow..."

"It's true," Dib insisted gently, something about the hands curling in his shirt making his stomach do a flip. "I mean--- you've even saved the Earth a few times single-handedly, even back then, because you wanted to be the one to do it. That's incredible."

Zim tipped his face up to look at Dib, unhooking one hand from Dib's shirt to reach out and pet his hair lightly. "Thank you..."

"It's no problem," Dib murmured, absolutely loving the petting, the look he was getting almost leaving him breathless. God, he was a weak man.

"...Aren't you going to do the next part?"

"The next part?"

Zim sighed. "I guess I'll have to do it." Scooting up a bit, he closed his eyes and pulled Dib into a soft kiss.

Dib's brows lifted. Oh. The next part. It only took a moment for him to let his eyes fall closed, though, pressing back into the kiss softly, and letting out a breath. He couldn't remember the last time he'd shared a kiss with anyone, but that hardly mattered right now; the only thing that mattered was being here with Zim, right in this moment.

After a moment, Zim finally pulled back. He looked up at Dib hazily, a dreamy smile on his face. "Mmm. Perfect. Now pet me some more."

Dib let out a breath of a laugh, unable to wipe the smile off his face, doing just that and pressing a kiss to Zim's forehead. "...This is really, really nice, Zim. I have a feeling that this is gonna be great."

"Aaaaah," Zim sighed, leaning into the pets and the kiss. "Yes. Attention forever. Paradise."

"You're lucky, I haven't dated anybody in forever, so I have so much attention to give," Dib teased, more fond than actually joking.

"Good. Love me!" Zim snuggled closer. "Pet me and praise me!"

"You're a menace," Dib let out a breath of a chuckle, holding him close. "You know, I never expected you to be so... cuddly. It's nice, honestly."

"'Menace' is not a compliment," Zim teased.

"It's the truth, though," Dib snickered, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "You're being a cute menace, though, so it's still a half-compliment."

"Ahh, you tease."

"It's just what I gotta do."

"Mm, a shame, as I was willing to reward you for your services," Zim purred.

"Oh?" Dib lifted his brows, a wry but goofy smirk plastered across his face. "What kind of reward, hm?"

"Depends," Zim teased.

"Hmmm," Dib hummed, snuggling up to him. "Depends on what? What do I gotta do to see these brilliant plans of yours?"

Zim smirked playfully. "Pet me and praise me and you'll see."

"Wellllll," Dib trailed off thoughtfully, brushing his hand over Zim's head, his fingers idly finding their way to Zim’s antenna and scratching delicately at the base. "It's hard to know where to begin. There's so much I could say about you."

The antenna nearest Dib's hand twitched in delight. "I'm sure you'll think of something..."

"Hmmmm..." Dib murmured. "Well... you're really soft. It's good that you want affection, because you're nice to touch on, easy to hold, and it'd be hard to keep my hands off you all the time. I'm... pretty partial to physical affection, heheh." 

As he spoke, his fingers brushed over the fine hairs of Zim’s antenna curiously. At the touch, Zim actually froze up, a tension shooting up his spine, and made an... unusual sound. Almost like a gagging sound, but more... breathy.

Dib paused, lifting his hand up and immediately fretting. "Oh--- jeez, sorry, antennae not good to touch?"

Zim's fingers curled in Dib's shirt again. "Don't stop,” he murmured intensely, his tone demanding.

Oh. _Oh._ He understood now. And, with a soft, testing touch once again, Dib brushed his fingers over the thin appendage, slowly and carefully.

Zim took a deep breath, running his hands up and down Dib's chest appreciatively. "Nn, so strange... It doesn't feel like that when I groom them..."

"Lucky me, then?" Dib almost purred, undeniably a little excited about that, making sure to keep his touches trailing in the same direction the small, fine hairs did. Last thing he needed was to push any of them in an uncomfortable direction; if his antennae were anything like Earth bugs, it'd cause some sensory issues, and that wasn’t terribly conducive to getting his new partner turned on.

"Ahh." Zim leaned up, nuzzling Dib's neck, panting softly at the touches. His breath came in hot puffs against Dib's skin.

"This is pretty good for you, huh?" Dib asked quietly, the warm air against his neck making something in his stomach twist pleasantly, and his breath catch in his chest a bit.

"Mmm." Zim ran his hands up into Dib's hair, tugging gently. "...We are mates now. And I’ve known you for… many, many years, so I don’t feel uncomfortable with the idea of… If you wanted to, ah. Consummate that. I would be... amenable to that."

The tug had a breath escape him before he even realized it did, but he pulled himself together to listen to Zim, his brows lifting. Holy shit. "I--- you know? I... absolutely could be up for that. If you wanted to."

"I'm, ah. ...Rusty," Zim confessed.

"Me too," Dib admitted with a nervous grin. "I guess, uhh. It'll be easier for us to shake off the rust that way? Since, there's. You know. No judgement."

"Heh. I hardly have a choice now, you have me so riled up between the touching and the talking," Zim teased.

"Yeah?" Dib teased back. "Well, you deserve some taking care of, I'd say. I don't mind helping."

Zim cleared his throat. "Feel free to, ehhhh. Keep. Talking like that. As we go."

Dib lifted his brows, interested, but just offered a smile, moving to kiss Zim's temple. "Can do."

"Do you have anything you like?" Zim offered.

"I just--- am kind of into, uhhhhh," Dib floundered a bit. "Possessiveness? And stuff that goes from soft to rough a lot, if that makes sense? And, um. Just about anything that could go into that sort of thing, really. Maybe a little manhandling, you know."

"Oooh." Zim smirked wryly, eyes lighting up. "I also enjoy those things."

"Sounds like we've got a pretty good match, then?" Dib grinned sheepishly.

Zim snickered, having an idea. "What if I scratched my name onto your back? Not a scar, just enough to make it red for a few days."

"Ohhhh," Dib lifted his brows, letting out a pleasant hum. "Hell yeah, go for it."

Hopping up, Zim gave Dib room to roll over. "You have to tell me how good it feels while I do it."

"Like I wasn't already planning on it," Dib teased, rolling onto his stomach, shuffling his shirt up without a second thought.

Zim immediately sat back down on Dib's back removing a glove, smoothing his hand over the beautiful canvas that Dib's skin had become for him. How shall he paint his love? "I love these spots," Zim remarked, pointing out a few of Dib's freckles with his clawed finger.

"Oh--- freckles?" Dib asked, knowing vaguely that he had a few patches of freckles along his shoulder blades. "You should see them in the summer. If I'm out in the sun longer, they tend to get more intense."

"Mmm, all your skin gets a little bit darker in the summer. It's lovely," Zim noted. Then, he picked a spot, and dragged his claw across the surface of Dib's skin, forming the top line of the Z. A welt immediately raised. No blood was drawn, but it would definitely sting for a while.

"Ahhh--- holy shit," Dib let out a heated breath at the scratch, his back arching a bit. "Yeah, that's--- perfect. Your claws are so sharp, god."

Zim couldn't help but lick his upper lip, aroused by the praise. He drew another line, diagonal and down. He made the letters huge so that Dib would feel it every time he did literally anything.

"O-oh, shit, Zim," Dib let out a shaky groan after a light hiss of pain, this clearly very good for him. He didn't typically like to be too overly reactive, winding up embarrassed if he did, but if he couldn't get words of praise out, he was sure that'd make up for it.

"Hmm? I can't hear you."

He swallowed thickly, trying to speak louder. "S' good.”

"You're not giving up on me, are you? Already?" Zim teased.

"No, you kidding?" Dib shook his head a bit, letting out a shaky huff of a laugh. "It just--- feels really, really nice. The pressure and intensity and… you know, all that, you… you do it perfect."

"I see," Zim purred, putting another scratch across his back, then another, finishing out the Z and creating an I.

Dib let out a quiet groan, putting forth more effort to speak up. It's what Zim was after, of course, and with Zim doing this, it would only be fair. "Wow, that's--- almost half way done, huh? I--- can't wait to see it. I bet it looks good."

"Can you feel the letters?" Zim ran his palm soothingly over the skin, mixing pain with gentleness.

"You--- just finished the I, yeah?" Dib asked, practically melting against Zim's palm. “Oh, god, that feels amazing…”

"Mmhm. My name, emblazoned in huge letters across your back. So that you can't forget who you belong to."

That made heat rise to Dib's face, and his stomach did a little flip. Oh, god, that was so good for him. "As if I could forget that I belong to the most incredible Irken I have ever or will ever hear about..."

That made Zim's head swim, drunk with arousal. He slowly drew the first line of the M.

Dib let out a quiet groan, leaning his face against the bed gently. His core felt like it was on fire, especially as the next line of the M came, agonizingly slow and delightfully sharp. Finally, the last letter was finished, leaving Dib's back emblazoned with welts in the shape of Zim's name. Zim leaned over, kissing across the letters. "Mine, mine," he purred. "All mine."

"Always," Dib let out a pleased sigh, basking in the affections. "Yours and only yours."

"Good." Zim sat up, moving to tug Dib's shirt off. "No more of this."

Dib complied easily, shifting up on his elbows to shuffle it off, letting out a light breath at the cold of the room. "If you want my pants off, I'll need you to get off me for just a sec, though. I'll make it fast."

"Mm, I want you on your back as well," Zim said, standing. Enjoying standing over Dib as he laid on the bed. He stood tall, hands on his hips, getting a kick out of looking down at the other man.

Despite Zim’s stature, the commanding presence created by the Irken standing over him motivated Dib to undress a bit faster. He shuffled out of his pants after he turned on his back, even making a little show of shuffling his boxers off, turning his angular hips slowly to ease them off hip. A little something extra, just for the fun of it.

Zim watched with interest, taking in the sight of him. In all their many years, Zim had never seen very much of Dib's skin, so he was completely taken in by the sight of his form. He was lean, with pronounced hip bones and fuzzy hair in strange places, and his skin was covered in marks. Little scars, recent scuffs, and freckles. He was beautiful.

Clearing his throat to try and ground himself from being so taken in, he tugged off his own clothing. He was seldom out of it, but he didn't seem terribly ashamed.

Dib looked at Zim with blatant interest, taking in all his features just as eagerly. Irkens were strange and angular, yet incredibly smooth, in terms of features. One thing he noticed, however, was that Zim... didn't seem to have any sort of genitals? Just series of scale-like plates, almost like scalemail armor, that Dib tried not to stare at, but caught himself glancing at more than once. Was that it? Was there something in there? He had no idea, but some part of that mystery was very exciting for him.

Catching onto Dib's interest, he flashed a playful smile, taking Dib's hand and placing it over the ridged plate, which was effectively a carapace. Underneath, something moved.

Dib's brows shot up at the feeling, his face immediately flushing a dark red, and he mumbled without even thinking about it. "Holy shit your dick moves. What the fuck. Oh my god."

"What, yours doesn't?" Zim teased.

"Literally not at all. For multiple reasons."

"And those are?"

"Well, for one, the lack of one?"

"Oh."

"Yeah. It'd be fucked up if my situation moved."

Zim raised a brow. "You have a receptor instead of an insertable then?"

Dib paused. Huh. Those were surprisingly neutral terms. He could absolutely work with that. "Mhm, sure do."

"Oh! Alright." Zim nodded sagely, understanding. "Yes. That would explain it."

"And that's definitely a, uh. Insertable in there, and not some kind of weird internal thing with a receptor?" Dib asked. "I don't know how Irken parts work, so... can't, y'know. Rule that out. It's cool either way."

"Oh, no, it's an insertable," Zim assured him. "And it's all for you, darling."

"Well, how can I see it, then?" Dib asked, brushing a hand over Zim's hip.

"Just give it a little more attention," Zim replied, carding a hand through Dib's hair.

"Ohhhh, okay," Dib hummed pleasantly, clearly getting an idea going, with Zim still standing. He scooted closer, folding his legs underneath him, and while glancing up his way, pressed a kiss along the seam of the plating he found after a moment of scrutinizing it.

Zim let out a sigh, his fingers curling lightly in Dib's hair. He gave a light tug at the short hairs just above where his head had been shaven.

That had Dib letting out a short, pleased breath of his own, peering up at Zim as best he could, and letting the tip of his tongue run against the slit, making the touch slow and lingering. Zim swallowed roughly. The seam gave way to a pale green head of Zim's "insertable," the shaft not far behind. Dib looked it over with interest for a moment. It was... surprisingly pointed. That was going to feel interesting. For now, though, he opted to focus more attention on lavishing the starts of it with affection, pressing a kiss to it, even taking the tip of it in his mouth for just a moment, a light, teasing gesture.

Zim's breath hitched lightly, his fingers tightening in Dib's hair.

Pleased with the reaction, as more of it came out, Dib took more of it into his mouth, letting out a breath. Had he given head before? Only once. Was it awkward? Yes, but he was a late-teen. All he could hope now is that he'd gotten better with the passed time. Not to mention that he’d had an addition made, originally for primarily aesthetic reasons, but he had always hoped he’d get a chance to use it for something a little more exciting.

"Mmh. I forgot you had that thing in your mouth…" Zim let out a light breath, and more of the shaft made an appearance. It was slim, with a flared head, and scale-like ridges along the bottom. As it seemed to fill out more, Zim seemed capable of controlling it more. Like a tentacle.

Dib was fascinated, but didn’t part ways with it yet, still working his tongue at its underside, his tongue piercing bumping against the ridges as he went. His head swam as he imagined what these exciting ridges would be able to do for him once it got to that part, and Zim seemed to be _delighted_ with the use of the stud in his tongue, letting out excited little gasps every time the smooth steel ball ran over the head.

Finally, though, curiosity got the better of Dib, and he had to pull away to look at it, a little impressed with its size as compared to the rest of Zim’s body.

"God damn, Zim," Dib murmured, a little heated. "That is... _so_ much better than human insertables, holy shit."

"So you're finally ready to admit that Irkens are the superior species?" Zim teased, too breathless to be taken seriously.

"You're still gonna have to earn that one," Dib teased back, giving it a few soft strokes.

"Then allow me to sway your opinion." Pulling Dib by the hair, he leaned down and stole a kiss before pulling away from him, the ridges of his segmented tongue running along the stud almost a bit obsessively. Dib, at first, had no idea what Zim was doing. The kiss had been enough to distract him, but Zim's movements were so fluid and so certain, but as soon as Zim’s lips parted from Dib’s, Zim shoved Dib back onto the bed and pushed Dib's legs apart, looping his arms around the underside of Dib's thighs and burying his face between. His slender, segmented tongue dipped in, parting delicate folds of flesh to find a distinctive spot that he immediately recognized. A shared aspect of Irken and human anatomy, apparently.

God. Dib didn't want to admit it out loud, not just yet, but Jesus Christ, a human man could never. It was barely a fair comparison at all.

In truth, the admission of superiority was only half of Zim’s motive. He would do anything to please his Dib and earn his sweet praises that fell only from his lips and no others. He wrapped his lips around Dib’s clit, applying a bit of suction as he continued to work his tongue a bit.

"Oh my god, Zim," Dib whimpered, his breaths already falling into light pants. From the rust, he was almost already pushed into his climax. He wouldn't be surprised if this time around was one that got multiple out of him, honestly.

Zim gave another long lick as he looked up to speak. "Tell me how it feels," he urged softly. He wanted to sound more dominant, since both he and Dib enjoyed when he was, but at the moment, he was practically begging. He needed to hear it.

"A--- amazing," Dib whimpered, barely concerned with the tone, even just the breaths of him speaking leaving his oversensitive flesh feel like it was on fire. "It's fucking incredible, please don't stop, holy shit--- Oh my god, you’re amazing."

Zim stroked with his fingers a moment, pressing a kiss to Dib's thigh. "Anything for my Dib," he purred. "Anything to please you."

He leaned back in, this time slipping his tongue into Dib's entrance.

Dib gasped and groaned, lifting one of the hands he'd had on Zim's head to press against his face, his abdomen feeling white-hot with pleasure. “Oh god--- Zim---!”

All it took for him to hit what he was firmly decided on being just the first climax was Zim brushing past a differently-textured spot within him, but despite the cry he let out, the brief clench of muscles around the Irken's tongue, and the gentle throbbing that followed it, he wasn't even vaguely ready to stop yet. If anything, as the first one tapered down, even if exhaustion threatened to creep in, he was lit up with renewed gusto. (Which, in and of itself, was something that blew his mind: any time he'd taken care of himself, it was one and done, but here he was, actively ready for another. The pacing was perfect, it seemed.)

Zim gasped a little bit at the muscles clamping lightly on his tongue, mostly out of surprise. He pulled himself out, though and pressed a kiss to Dib's stomach. "Do you need a moment?" Zim asked.

"Just--- a second," Dib let out a breath to decompress, his face very red, by this point. "That was--- holy shit. The best I've ever had. Come here, I am in--- such a need for a kiss."

Zim scoffed, more fond than anything, and moved up beside him to kiss him, ignoring his own urges for a moment. It'd be worth the wait.

Dib kissed him back eagerly, holding him close for a moment as the tension in his back muscles eased, parting after a second and pressing his forehead to Zim's own. "You are... fucking amazing with your tongue. I know I'm gonna be just as happy with the rest of it, but--- god damn."

Zim beamed at the praise. Dib was the only person who ever spoke so highly of him. Even Keef, who was so kind to him, had never praised him this much. It was utterly intoxicating. "You certainly seemed to be having fun."

"Absolutely," Dib hummed pleasantly. "And I'd say it's due time for your turn now that I've gotten myself back together, isn't it?"

"I could go for that," Zim agreed.

"You deserve it, for all that," Dib purred, pulling him a bit closer to press a kiss to his jawline.

Zim playfully nipped at Dib's ear. "I am going to make you feel so good that you see the entire universe on the backs of your eyelids," he murmured. A challenge. A promise.

"I can't wait," Dib swallowed lightly to struggle to collect his composure, trying not to let his heart race in his chest too hard. Christ, he was a mess for this.

Zim had to scoot back down to get between Dib's legs. "You're too tall for me to kiss you while I do this," Zim complained, but then changed his tune after thinking about it. "Ugh. You're _so_ tall."

"Is that a thing for you?" Dib asked, half teasing, but half very pleased about it.

"Of course it is, I'm Irken," Zim teased.

"Well, good," Dib snickered. "Finally, being tall is good for something."

"Those are the most blasphemous words I have ever heard," Zim said, kissing Dib's sternum (which was the highest he could go). "...Do you have preferences for, ah, length or girth?"

"Honestly?" Dib paused to think about it, before offering Zim a shrug and a smirk. "Just go nuts with it. As long as I'm prepped for it, I'm good."

"Are you sure?" Zim teased. "You don't strike me as the type who is experienced. I'm not either, but it won't hurt _me."_

"Listen, I have--- a lot of alone time all the time," Dib replied, just vague enough to try to save himself some embarrassment. "So, I think I can handle it! Just, like. Try not to rip me in half or something, and we're good."

Zim let out an embarrassed laugh. "You're ridiculous." Unbothered, though, he settled between Dib's legs and gently pushed into him. With how prehensile it was, he didn't even bother to look or spare a hand to guide it. He started slow, as requested.

Dib's breath hitched as the prehensile member found it's way into him, his face reddening and his head still a bit fuzzy. It was such an odd shape, but brushed along so nicely, Dib wasn't even vaguely concerned about it, instead just leaning back from where he'd been settled on his elbows and letting out a soft groan.

"How does it feel?" Zim asked, genuine.

"Good," Dib murmured breathily. "It's--- really different from anything I've ever felt. Perfect. Just like everything about you."

Inside Dib, the insertable shifted, expanding some. "And now?"

"Did that---" Dib murmured breathlessly, his inner walls straining around the expansion for a moment, slowly easing around it, his eyes wide. "Did that just expand?"

"...Yes? Why do you think I asked, fool?"

"I thought you just--- moved it or something! How---?"

"I'm adjustable," Zim explained. "The muscle expands and contracts. Do you really want me to explain my biology _now?"_

"Later," Dib conceded, swallowing thickly. "I'm--- I'm good, though."

Zim nodded, taking a deep breath, and rocked his hips, going slow and gentle to start.

Dib let out a shuddering breath, almost overwhelmed with the feeling of the sheer size of it. He was adjusting quickly, though, and fortunately, between it's self lubrication and his own, he had an easy time adapting to the slow pace. "Nnngh, Zim, that's--- really good..."

Smoothing his hands over Dib's pronounced hips, he chewed his lip. The words of praise were encouraging, but he would certainly have to do better if he wanted more. And he really wanted more. Pressing closer, he adjusted his angle so that a smaller tendril at the top of his insertable could reach Dib to stimulate him externally when thrusting in.

"O-oh shit," Dib whimpered and moaned, his fingers curling into the bedding. It was hard to have the brainpower to think of what to say, but he fought to. Zim deserved it, and he knew the Irken absolutely needed it. "That's perfect, Zim, holy fuck, _please._ I..." He let out a heavy breath, wracking his brain for the perfect words. “I need you. Only you. You’re the only one who’s good enough.”

Zim panted softly, picking up the pace, an intense expression on his face. He looked driven. Motivated.

Dib whimpered and groaned amidst panting of his own. This was so intense, he could barely believe it. He spoke heatedly and quietly. “God, yes. More. Please, I-- need more of you.” His core felt molten. Tension built up again as he rose to climax once more, getting so close again already.

Zim leaned over, kissing Dib's stomach and pressing down on his hips before picking up the pace again, this time a bit rougher. That's what Dib had asked for. To go from gentle to rough. And Zim would do anything to hear Dib sing his praises again. Anything to please him.

“Zim,” Dib purred, blurting out literally anything he could think of to say. “You’re so perfect. You’re everything… everything I could want. You’re so hot. Please---” 

With a sharp gasp, he finished, crying out.

Zim didn’t stop.

“Zim, I---”

“I know,” Zim purred. “You can do it again.”

Dib looked dumbfounded, his insides _burning_ with over stimulation. “What?”

“Come again,” Zim ordered. “I can make you come again.”

Heart fluttering in his chest, Dib swallowed roughly and nodded, holding tightly to Zim’s arms. It was too much, too much. His brain and his body begged him to stop, to pull away, but he refused. He _wanted_ this. He leaned up a bit, both to change the angle and to press his forehead to Zim’s, his whole body shaking as Zim continued his motions.

“Tell me who you belong to,” Zim nearly growled.

Dib chewed his lip. “You.”

“Again.”

_”You.”_

“Whose are you, Dib?”

“I---” His breath hitched. His brain felt like pudding. “I belong… to Zim.”

“And who is going to make you come three times in a row?”

_”Zim.”_

Groaning, Zim felt himself growing close to his own climax. Reaching down, he stroked Dib externally, coaxing him to finish. Dib held tightly to Zim’s shoulders. Their hot puffs of breath mingled between their faces. Tears burned at Dib’s eyes from the intensity, and with absolutely no warning, a third, powerful orgasm rocked his entire body. Zim let out a somewhat strangled groan, finishing just a moment after, thick fluid filling in around the limited amount of space left around his insertable.

Neither of them were able to speak for a long moment, both flopping over onto Zim’s bed. For a good few minutes, all either of them could do was breathe.

“Sorry,” Zim finally murmured hoarsely. “I didn’t mean to--- do that inside your body without asking. I was… distracted.”

“S’fine,” Dib muttered. “I take--- chemical shots that alter my body chemistry a little, and it makes it so that the, uh. Reproductive parts of my situation don’t really work. Among other things.”

“I see,” Zim said quietly. “I won’t worry if you don’t.”

Dib practically melted into the bed, rubbing Zim’s back. “Holy fuck,” he finally said. “I came three times.”

“You did,” Zim said fondly. “Well done.”

“Well done yourself!” Dib laughed. “You’re kind of a stud, huh?”

Zim snickered tiredly. “I have no idea what that means.”

“Good stuff,” Dib promised, kissing the top of Zim’s head. “Man. Stuff is gonna be… really different now.”

“It is,” Zim agreed. “But it will be good.”

“I’m still going to prank you sometimes,” Dib warned.

Zim laughed. “Well, of course! It wouldn’t be nearly as fun if you didn’t.”

“Honestly, if this is what happens every time, I might have to bring bees more often.”

“Don’t you _dare.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there friends! During our break from Emergence editing, modestmink and I decided to take a stab at a new scenario, as requested by our dear friend! We hope you enjoyed this ridiculous, indulgent little romp through a few of our favorite zadr tropes!
> 
> If this is your first time checking out one of our fics, consider having a look at our other works! We have a dark, angsty zadr one-shot called "Die Young," and a long-form adventure fic with zadr thrown in called "Invader Zim: Emergence"! And drop by our tumblrs (we have the same urls there as here except with a dash in irken-scum) for when we inevitably post or reblog some fun fanart for this fic!


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